


I guess it's just my life

by Charlie_Michelle



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Sports, Clarke is a badass, Dom/sub Undertones, Drama & Romance, Endgame Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Military Backstory, Military Clarke, Multi, Not Beta Read, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, The UFC AU nobody asked for, UFC, USAF, switch POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 46,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24577351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_Michelle/pseuds/Charlie_Michelle
Summary: And life is good, for all of them. It’s not perfect, but it’s good.If anyone had asked Clarke if she saw how her life would turn it would she change it, she would tell them no. Even through all the hardships and bad times. Her life turned out with no semblance of what was laid before her as a child, but she was happy. And really, wasn’t that the point of life? To be happy? To be loved? To be better? So no, if she was asked, there was nothing she’d change about her life.
Relationships: Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Echo, Echo/Roan (The 100), Emori/John Murphy (The 100), Jasper Jordan/Maya Vie, Monty Green/Harper McIntyre, Octavia Blake/Lincoln, Raven Reyes/Miles Ezekiel Shaw
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	I guess it's just my life

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this piece -and neglecting my other ones oops, for two straight weeks. This is one of the LONGEST one-shots I've ever written. This is also one of my most real ones? So some warnings; I come from quite the military family and so a lot of my information is from personal experience, but mostly just research. The UFC aspect is very light, but I just love Bellamy as a fighter, so its there. AND finally, I do not pretend to fully understand the dom/sub relationships (although I did a lot of research into that as well, and I know where I'd stand in that scenario), but hopefully there was some just representation. I'm always open for suggestions and corrections on information though! So if anything is amiss, please remember, it's a work of fanfiction and I will always accept corrected information.

If anyone had asked how Clarke Griffin saw her life playing out she probably would have said how it was expected for her. Her future had been mapped out all before she could walk and not once was there any mention of asking her what she wanted or what she needed. Instead, her mother Dr. Abigail “Abby” Griffin had wanted Clarke to follow in her footsteps, which suited her father Jake Griffin just fine because that’s how he met her mother. It was love at their first charity dinner together. The whole story is a little more complicated than that, but as a child Clarke never really cared for the particular details. Unfortunately for Abigail and Jake Griffin they hadn’t anticipated three things… 

First; they should have known Clarke was going to be the one to go against the grain and create her own path in life when she was given the choice of cheerleading (like her mother had done) and soccer (which was offered for a small fee of $50 every spring through Arkadia Community Center). Jake had wanted to give Clarke the chance to make the decision on her own and at five years old that decision was _massive_ , like seriously, it would change everything! Cheerleading never really caught her attention in the way that fast paced sports did and so naturally the child chose soccer. In the end it was for the best, she even met her very own best friend the first day of practice when this seven year old boy named Dax teased her for her pigtails. Not to say that Wells Jaha wasn’t her ultimate best friend, but she’s _always_ known him and it was nice to make a friend all by herself! 

In the end she does compromise with her mother Dr. Abigail “Abby” Griffin and allows her to enroll Clarke into tumbling and cheerleading once she’s ten years old. If only because she was expected to carry on the family tradition at Mt. Weather Preparatory School. She is loath to admit that she actually enjoys the physical upkeep that comes with competitive cheerleading. 

Second; her parents never foresaw the bond between the youngest child of Aurora Blake and their own daughter. Yet, there she was at every birthday party, long weekend for sleepovers and even school dances -yes _of course_ they took each other over boys, because boys were gross. Octavia Blake became a Griffin household name within minutes of the girls meeting on the old beat up patch of grass that was used for soccer in late April. Between her and Wells Clarke was supported in anything and everything she ever took on and for that Jake was grateful. It was difficult to grow up in such a small town when your parents were better off than most of their neighbors. 

It was especially difficult when your father was away for large periods of time on top secret missions for the military. The metaphorical target on Clarke’s back only grew in size once her mother (an already well known surgeon for the area) decided to start dabbling in politics. It was near impossible to duck under the radar at Mt. Weather, from the time she was in first grade all the way up through ninth grade it was always expected of her to do exactly as her mother had done. As her grandmother had done. As her aunts have done. And so the cycle goes. 

The third and final curveball her parents couldn’t prepare for was the worst yet. Jake Griffin had been killed in action while serving his country. Clarke was fifteen and halfway through her tenth grade year at Mt. Weather. Wells had attended an all boys charter school two hours west of Arkadia and spent hours on the phone with her while she sobbed and cried and screamed about the unfairness of the world. The spring soccer season at the community center was starting, it was Clarke’s favorite time of year, when she could wear a sweatshirt and shorts and still be cold only to have to strip the sweatshirt at the first water break provided during practice. Only for the first time in ten years she missed the first practice, instead choosing to hold herself up in her room with her mother Dr. Abigail “Abby” Griffin left to handle the situation as she handled most things; to her standard and expectation. 

The following week found Clarke standing with her mom in a receiving line full of friends and family, community members -like the soccer coaches, if they could be called that, and her teachers. There was a flood of men and women in uniform and an honor guard and Clarke couldn’t remember a time she saw anything as disastrously beautiful. Upon arrival at Arlington National Cemetery -the most sacred ground in the entire United States, Clarke found herself squished between Octavia and Wells. Her grip on their hands had been bruising and she hated that she jumped during the twenty-one gun salute. Octavia’s mother couldn’t get off of work for the service, but her older brother Bellamy (an elusive figure as he was five years older and already away at college) had attended in her place. His big soft hand against her shoulder as taps played would leave a lasting imprint, from that moment whenever she felt scared or alone she’d think of that moment. 

Her junior year of high school was different. She adamantly told her mother she would not be going back to Mt. Weather and instead wanted to spend her final years of high school with Octavia Blake. Abby didn’t take well to that, called Clarke ungrateful and a brat. In turn the teenager spent an entire weekend on the Blake couch in her dads’ old Air Force sweatshirt. The two girls binged through every cheesy romantic comedy they could get their hands on in forty-eight hours and ate an enormous amount of junk food. Bellamy had made an appearance late Saturday night after he arrived home from a party, a cool _college_ party, he felt the need to remind them. Clarke only rolled her eyes as he launched himself over the back of the old ratty and utterly comfortable and homey sofa, his arm around her shoulders like it was meant to be there. 

“Now there’s something I haven’t seen before.” Octavia teased while Clarke’s cheeks turned scarlet and Bellamy scoffed. 

Still, he didn’t remove his arm from her shoulders until Octavia announced it was time for bed and even then, he had to direct Clarke towards his sisters room as she was half asleep and he did so with his big warm and gentle hand at the base of her spine. The next day the girls met up with Wells for their morning run and when they finished the humidity and heat of the early morning had left the three of them soaked through with sweat and grime and pure satisfaction. “So what are you going to do if your mom refuses to agree to send you to Arkadia like the rest of us peasants?” 

Clarke shrugged from her seat on top of the old monkey bars, the same ones she fell from when she was eight and broke her arm. “Not sure, but if I have to become a high school drop-out I will.” 

“Clarke,” Wells admonished easily, as he had been doing so ever since their childhood, “you can’t just drop out of high school. I’m sure your mom will make the decision that’s best for you. I mean she can’t be blind to see how miserable you’ve been at Mt. Weather.” 

“If it strays from the plan it’s not an option.” Clarke grunts out as she swings herself down. “Let’s go lounge at Wells’ pool, I’m hot as shit.” 

Octavia cheers, “I’m in! Let me just text Bell and let him know, Clarke can I borrow a suit?” 

“I suppose, but that’s it you get nothing else the rest of the day.” And it’s the first time since her dad died that Clarke allows herself to tease and joke and smile with her friends. 

Wells is in the middle, like normal, and is talking over their mindless chatter. “Nobody even asked me if I wanted to do that. Nobody cares if my dad’s home or if the pool is swimmable today… no it’s just let’s go to Wells’ house! It’ll be fun!” He’s teasing just as much and soon Clarke is laughing and for a brief moment in the late June sun her two best friends are convinced that it’ll be alright. 

Which, for the most part is, because Abby does eventually see reason and allows Clarke to attend public high school for her final two years of primary education. There are stipulations, she must try-out for the varsity cheer team, “Really Clarke, if you’re going to throw away everything I’ve done for you these last fifteen years you can at least cheer at the football games for me.” and she has to attend college visits to George Washington University -her mothers’ undergraduate alumni, “GW has a tremendous pre-med program Clarke and if you want to get into the John Hopkins, you’re going to need the credentials. Although I’d prefer to see you at Harvard… regardless…” 

Abby is good at dismissing things; she’s dismissed her daughters ambitions and personal interests, she’s dismissed her husbands’ death -seriously, seven months after the service she was introducing Clarke to one of Maryland’s Senators. Clarke thought it was just platonic and that they were working on a campaign together, until Abby had greeted him with a kiss to the lips and then she dismissed Clarke’s discomfort later that evening. It’s the same dismissive tone that Clarke is so used to hearing that by the time senior year comes into play she doesn’t even try and approach her mother Dr. Abigail “Abby” Griffin about her uncertainty in regards to her future. Instead she takes her concerns to Aurora Blake, who’s currently working through Octavia’s anxiety as well. 

“I promise you both,” Aurora started as she stared at the pair of pitiful emotional messes across from her at the old scratched kitchen table -the same one where they learned to play pong, “no matter what you choose to do or where you choose to go I will always love you. The future is scary girls, but I think the scarier outcome is choosing something you don’t love.” 

By time college commitment week approaches, Octavia, the captain of the girls varsity soccer team, has accepted the scholarship offered by Old Dominion University in Norfolk, Virginia. Wells has accepted a partial academic scholarship to Princeton University in Princeton, New Jersey. Even Bellamy had big plans with his college graduation quickly approaching from Gettysburg College in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania with a Bachelor of Arts in History with a concentration on classical studies. He’s been eying up higher education programs and opportunities for the last year and Clarke is genuinely excited for him, even if he is a huge nerd that studies the most _boring_ subject on the planet. 

Meanwhile, her own personal senior year has been dismal at best. She has several college acceptance letters that are littering her desk in her bedroom and still no idea which direction she wants to go. She’s expected to accept the offer from George Washington University in D.C. but her heart just isn’t in it and that petrifies her. Her whole life has been shaped into making her the perfect match for G.W.U and she knows that if she takes the acceptance that her life will be set, but there’s something unsatisfying about it all. At the same time Clarke’s personal life scandal of junior year hasn’t died down yet and her mother has been guilt-tripping her nonstop about it. As it appears the small town of Arkadia wasn’t ready for one of their town princesses to be outed as bisexual and people didn’t respond kindly. 

The whole situation could have been avoided if Clarke had just listened to her friends. Lexa, _beautiful_ and empowering and remarkable Lexa, was the shoe-in for captain of varsity cheer and had very little competition. That was until Clarke joined the squad at the beginning of junior year. The two of them were on the same level in terms of skill and charisma. They were both natural born leaders and could motivate their teammates even at their lowest points during the season. In all sincerity Clarke had not intended to be nominated for captain at the end of the school year and she had refused the nomination. It wasn’t enough for Lexa, beautiful and _empowering_ Lexa, who had spent the second half of junior year and the summer into senior year kissing Clarke and loving her and teaching her the age old art of pleasure. Octavia had warned Clarke, told her that Lexa couldn’t be trusted and that she was a manipulative human that always had an agenda. Clarke didn’t listen and at the start of senior year she was called to the principal’s office to discuss the importance of keeping one’s sexuality to themselves. 

She didn’t cheer her senior year. 

She would have won captain by more than half the team. 

Wells comforted her the best he could two hours away and had to play the peacemaker between her and Octavia. For all of the brunette's wonderful and amazing personality traits her stubbornness was unbelievably challenging to work with on most days. Eventually though Wells -with the help from Bellamy during his fall break, got the girls to sit down and reconcile. There were a lot of tears and “I missed you so much!” exclamations that had the eldest Blake sibling rolling his eyes and Wells on speaker-phone praising Jesus for the reunion of friends. Abby wasn’t so forgiving, not when it was a campaign year and she was running for local offices in a homophobic town. It didn’t help that Abby herself was just on the cusp of homophobic herself. She dismissed the hurt that her daughter had gone through and pushed for more perfection. 

Winter break was quickly approaching and Clarke hadn’t announced any future plans and her mother was becoming increasingly more agitated. Her friends worried about her, encouraged her and offered means of making the difficult situation, but in the end it was Clarke who sat in her room in early December. The only light was her singular desk lamp that illuminated the formal letters of acceptance. Each one highlighted a different future, a different opportunity and different chances of growth and adaptation. And each one made her stomach twist and turn in different levels of anxiety and anticipation. Her first option, the only option she was trained to even consider, taunted her with the sleek ink on thick legal paper. Her heart just wasn’t in the idea of attending G.W.U, but she liked the idea of studying nursing at Bowie State University. She would still be committing to the study of medicine, but B.S.U had offered her a substantial financial aid deal and so she wouldn’t have to rely on her mother for tuition. Although, if she were going to rely on the money from the trust fund her father had set up for her she would want to do so to study art. Her closeted passion, least her mother find another reason for the disdain and pitiful looks. 

Clarke had applied to Rhode Island School of Design and that was the first denial letter she received that actually hurt her. Despite that disappointment she had compiled a portfolio and letters of recommendation from the art program at Mt. Weather and Arkadia to submit to Maryland Institute College of Art, Columbia University in New York City, Massachusetts Institute of Technology in Cambridge, and Pratt Institute in Brooklyn. Of which she received acceptances from all three and scholarship offers for Maryland Institute of Art and Pratt Institute. She could definitely make her finances work in Maryland, besides New York was terrifying to her and she truly never had any real desire to end up there. She could become an art therapist or an art teacher! Sure, they weren’t noteworthy like becoming a lead surgeon or medical researcher, but they were noble and they were career options that sparked some excitement in Clarke’s heart. 

She heaved out another heavy breath. She just had to make a decision before winter break! She threw herself back onto her bed. Her room was always cooler than most areas of the old house and so most nights she’d slip into bed in her father's Air Force Academy sweatshirt. She had taken it upon herself to save all of his military possessions from her mother and would often seek them out when things were tough. In particular she was fond of his Airman’s coin that he had to have received at the end of basic training. She thought it brought some level of luck to her and she’d often twiddle with it when she was feeling restless or studying. That night she had started playing with it while she paced her floor barefoot in fuzzy pajama pants that had unicorns all over them.

It’s not the first time that she’s wished her father was still alive to help her. Sometimes she liked to imagine what he would say or tell her, liked to pretend that he was in his study down the hall contemplating her dilemma and ready to offer the best piece of advice ever. Clarke gripped the coin tightly in her fist, “What would you do Dad?” she whispered out as she squeezed her eyes shut to keep from tearing up. Griffin women _were not_ emotional. Suddenly Clarke is sitting up and staring at the coin in her hand with a new sense of purpose and hope is fleeting in her chest. She weighs the pro’s and con’s of this new and unexpected possibility and then she just sits and let’s the idea sink in and festers within her brain. She eventually falls asleep, the Airman’s coin still in her palm, but by the time she wakes up the following morning she knows exactly what she’s going to do. 

Naturally her mother does not take it well. She slams her hands down on the counter and breaks the spatula she had been using and feels the need to remind Clarke over and over again what the plan was and what it has always been. She’s angry and hurt that Clarke would throw away everything for some silly pipe dream of becoming an American hero. “Just look at what this did to your father! Do you want to end up like him? Are you even aware of the weight behind a decision like this? What you’re throwing away? Does none of that matter to you?” and then her mom takes a shallow quivering breath, “Do I not matter to you?” 

“Of course you matter to me Mom, but what you want for me and what I want for me are two totally different things!” Clark starts off, she had unwrapped her arms from around her middle and started flailing them around. “You just expected me to become this person that I’m not and follow in your footsteps, but Mom we are not the same! I want _more_ out of life than money and success to my name, I want to make a difference! I want to explore the world beyond suburbia America and I want to make a decision on my own without you trying to bulldoze me into something!” 

“I do not bulldoze you!” Abby had the right mind to actually sound offended by her daughter's accusations. “I only want what is best for you! You’re still a child Clarke, you can’t possibly understand what a commitment enlisting means.” 

Clarke scoffed; “I can’t believe you’re pulling the child card. I mean I was adult enough to have you and Thelonius Jaha sit me down and lecture me on the importance of keeping my sexuality discrete, but then I was adult enough to speak and attend all your stupid benefits and functions as your LGBT scapegoat, but now I’m not adult enough to make my own decision in regards to my own future? You’re ridiculous.” 

Abby turned to face her daughter and was stunned at the look of pure disdain on her face. To see the utter disinterest and no fire in her daughters’ crystal blue eyes. “Honey…”

“No,” Clarke shook her head and backed out of the kitchen, “not this time. You aren’t going to guilt trip me and bully me into living a life I never wanted. I’m eighteen now and I’m meeting with a recruiter tomorrow. I’m literally not asking much of you, but could you at least pretend to support me through this?” 

Clark is out the door before Abby can form a proper response. She’s not dressed for the weather, which she realizes the moment she’s out the door. “Shit.” she bites out and shivers as she pulls her phone out. 

“If you’re calling to see if I’ve changed my mind about my choice in movie for our movie night tonight, the answer is no and I still plan to force you to watch all of the Fast and Furious movies.” Octavia’s chipper voice carries through the phone line, the background is fuzzy which leads Clarke to believe that she’s not at home. “I mean really Clarke, how can you not love Vin Diesel in those films? He’s hot.” 

Clarke hears the sound of Aurora Blake scolding her daughter and it confirms her suspicions that they are in fact not home. It’s too late for her to turn around and she’s already done the damage of storming out of her house in shorts and the old sweatshirt. “He just doesn’t do it for me, but Michelle Rodriguez and Jordana Brewster are hot.” 

“Ew, you would.” Octavia responds, but there’s no malice behind it. “Okay if you aren’t calling to dispute our movie arrangements for later on tonight then what’s up? Did you miss me already?” 

“Terribly, my soul feels empty with you.” And then Clarke gets serious. “Is your brother home?” 

“Uh, he should be. He was just stumbling into the kitchen to cure his hangover when Mom and I left to finish up our Christmas shopping, why?” 

Clarke lets out a huff of laughter, it’s dry and sarcastic and yet it’s almost hysteric and inhibited over the ridiculousness that is her situation; “I finally made a decision on what I want to do after graduation and my mother wasn’t pleased. Did she for a second take into consideration my feelings? No. Did she open herself up for an actual conversation to, maybe, I don’t know, discuss all of this? No. So I left and I’m almost at your house and I just wanted to make sure someone was going to be there, because I’m in shorts and can’t feel my legs from the knees down so climbing in through your window is out.” 

Octavia rushed in with her strong reassurance and soothing voice; “Clarke, breathe!” Ok, so soothing wasn’t the best description of Octavia’s approach to support and empathy. “I’ll call Bell and have him unlock the door, you can make yourself at home and grab extra clothes from my room. Mom and I will be home this afternoon. We’ll talk about it all then.” 

Clarke nods and then realizes she can’t actually see Octavia for her friend to receive the non-verbal understanding so instead she clears her throat and agrees hurriedly. Her hand is pressed against her forehead because she can feel the familiar throb of a stress headache and her verbal agreement is a little shaky and she’s afraid that she sounds like she’s going to cry. “I was so excited O and she just…”

“I know honey,” Octavia reassures her some more and offers to stay on the line until her distraught friend reaches her house, she can have her mom call Bellamy. Clarke was normally a very composed young woman, very rarely did she let her emotions get the best of her. Of course, there were always exceptions and anything to do with Abby Griffin seemed to be one of those exceptions. “...when you get inside text Wells so he knows where you’re at. You know your mom is going to want to know and he can play the messenger this time.” 

“Yeah, okay… I’m coming up to your porch now.” Clarke stands outside for a few more seconds to reassure Octavia that she’s fine. This is nothing new and nothing she hasn’t dealt with before, this is just the first time she’s stormed out unprepared for the weather. The girls eventually hang up so Clarke can get warm and even though she’s been given permission to enter their home on her own she still finds herself knocking. 

When Bellamy opens the door he has his signature smirk in place and props himself up against the doorframe. “So the princess has finally escaped her tower?” 

Clarke crosses her arms over her chest and glares; “I told you to stop calling me that, it’s not even relevant anymore.” 

He stands aside to let her in, but it doesn’t stop him from getting one last comment in, “So long as your mom is paying for your college education at her high end school and you don’t have to do more than bat an eye it applies.” 

The warmth of the house hits Clarke and she feels almost immediately better, except her teeth are still chattering and her legs are still numb. She’s making her way towards Octavia’s room to grab the change of clothes she was promised when Bellamy’s hand grabs for her arm and suddenly she’s face to face with the boy she’s always thought about, but never knew how to handle. His eyes are dark and it feels like he’s peering into her soul, but they keep flitting between her eyes and her lips and she’s positive he’s going to make a move. Only, he doesn’t, instead he smirks again and insults her some more. 

The dynamic of Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin has always been one of heavy sarcasm and vicious fights. They could take each other down with the snarky comments and they knew exactly what buttons to push for each other. Wells called it unresolved sexual tension, Octavia called it gross and Clarke… well she knew it was just how they were. Bellamy had been just as much of a constant in her life as she had in his! He carried her on his back when she’d fall and scrape her knee, he’d console her when he saw she was visibly upset -her dad's funeral comes to mind and she can’t contain the shiver that runs through her body as she remembers how his hands felt on her. God, it was always his hands that she couldn’t resist. She was pathetic. He must have noticed her internal struggle because suddenly the smirk was gone and standing before her was the Bellamy she adored -and fantasized about. 

“C’mon Princess, what happened?” 

Clarke scrubbed at her face when the familiar heat of tears started to build up in her eyes, but all she succeeded in doing was increase the pressure around her eyes. Then it’s like the floodgates opened up and she was sobbing all over him. His arms came around her like a vice and he ended up sharing those comforting words she loved to hear slip from his tongue. “You’re alright Clarke, it’ll be okay Princess…” 

When she’s finally calm enough to explain everything to Bellamy her face is all blotchy and her voice croaks. He just listens and with the best ability to decipher what she’s saying around tears replies in ways that are hopeful and encouraging. And she feels at home with him rubbing her arms and his chin on her head. Soon enough though, the chill from the winter air sinks into her bones once more and she can’t control the shivers. Bellamy, who is one of the smartest people she’s ever come to know, makes the suddenly obvious observation that Clarke is freezing. And the next five minutes has him hovering all around her while he lectures her on the dangers of hypothermia and is grabbing extra sweats from his room while she gets into a warm shower. “No Clarke, you don’t want to jump into a scalding shower you’ll hurt yourself, just get it warm enough that it takes away chill.” 

By the time Octavia has gotten home Clarke is warmed up and napping on the sofa in Bellamy’s college sweatshirt and old flannel pajama pants. Octavia doesn’t say anything on it, but she’s skeptical of her brother from that moment on, at least until Clarke wakes up. The four of them, three Blake’s and a Griffin, sit around the small flea market coffee table with mugs of hot chocolate while Clarke calmly explains her situation. At first Octavia is upset, “Enlisting is just so open ended Clarke! You could end up anywhere in the world for who knows how long?” but after Clarke answers some of the more important big picture questions she’s a little more accepting. “I mean, I guess it _would_ be pretty cool to say my best friend is a badass Airman.” 

And then it’s Bellamy’s turn to interrogate her. Has she spoken with a recruiter yet? “No Bellamy, I literally just decided this last night.” Has she researched what kind of career she’d like to have in the Air Force? “Not yet, I was hoping to start that tonight, but I do know they have incredible opportunities in the sciences and medical field.” Does she have any idea what the physical requirements are? What about technical requirements, can she just walk into an office and sign up? “There’s a process, you have to take a written exam and you have to pass an extensive physical.” So she’s just decided to leave then? “I’m not… no. O is going to Virginia and Wells will be in New Jersey, you’re looking into moving to Indiana for grad school. No matter what I choose to do I’m leaving Arkadia just like everyone else.” What about art school? 

And that stuns her into a moment of silence, because she hadn’t told anyone she was actually applying into programs. “How did you know about that?” 

Bellamy shrugs and sips from his mug, Octavia is pestering for more details on this whole other window of opportunity and Clarke is staring at him like she’s never really seen him before. It’s unsettling. “You’ve always been into art Clarke and you’re good, I just figured it made the most sense.” 

“Well yeah, but, what could I possibly do with a degree in art?” 

At this he shrugs again and smirks over his mug; “Whatever the hell you want Princess.” he finishes what’s left in his mug and stands up to stretch, “I mean no matter what you decide to do you’ll be great Clarke. Don’t get too upset that people aren’t jumping at the opportunity of you shipping off into uniform, especially since you’ve never even mentioned the military until today.” 

So she does, because Clarke always takes Bellamy’s advice. Somehow he’s proven himself correct once more, her mom does warm up to the idea after she’s met with her recruiter multiple times. Her public image page has boasted about Clarke’s plans of enlistment and now the lives of all the veterans of Arkadia matter greatly to Abby. When Clarke is sent to MEPS (or the military entrance processing station) she’s given a brief and rather loose taste of the lifestyle she should expect. Her ASVAB (armed services vocational aptitude battery) score is exceptionally high and opens up pretty much all opportunities in terms of MOS (military occupational specialty code). The actual physical part sucked, made her feel more like a specimen than a person, but as she squats to the ground in her underwear and sports bra with about twenty other women as they squat walk -or duck walk, across the floor she figures it could be worse. 

She tells her friends and mom that she’s definitely looking into health sciences options and programs. She tells her recruiter she wants to start preparation for basic training so that she can excel and advance and get accepted into the Special Warfare division. She’s aware that she’ll have to enter into basic training with an open MOS, albeit nerve wracking, but if she wasn’t 100% positive she could do this she wouldn’t take the risk. Lest she ends up as an MP (military police) which just seemed so undesirable to her. So she works steadily at improving herself physically and mentally, mostly physically. She knows she can not only pass the physical training requirements of basic military training, but she’s met the minimum for Special Warfare qualification. 

If anyone in her life thinks she’s crazy they don’t mention it. As the last few months of primary school come to a close Clarke is feeling incredible! She’s graduated high school, she’s proven herself over to the group of pre-enlisted recruits and her recruiter. She’s helped Octavia shop for her college dorm. She’s helped Wells burn anything that reminded him of his time in an all boys school. She’s even patched things up with her mom (kind of), unfortunately this means accepting her boyfriend Marcus Kane. However, she finds him more bearable once they create common ground and level it out. Most importantly, she’s grown closer with Bellamy than her younger self would have ever dreamed. 

It’s because Octavia is the first to leave. Summer practice starts right after Independence Day and so they’re loaded up in two vehicles and getting ready to spend the holiday in historic Williamsburg while on their way to Norfolk. It’s pretty great and Bellamy is in his prime between reenactments and historical landmarks. Aurora spends the weekend gushing over Octavia and crying, but they’re happy tears because her babies are all grown up and on their way to becoming successes. Clarke and Octavia spend every minute together, they’re pretty much attached at the hip all the way up to move in day. Bellamy has to practically pry them apart so they can leave. 

The trip home is a little different, because Aurora is a sports parent she’s been welcomed this weekend to join in some pep-rally. It’s supposed to be a way for the school to create a sense of family and while Aurora doesn’t buy it, she’s still going to participate. It’s just Bellamy and Clarke for the roughly three hour drive home. It feels like nothing, because they’ve always been able to share the same space and thrive. When they finally see the sign that reads _Welcome to Arkadia!_ Clarke has her head against his window and is half asleep. And because Bellamy is the man that he is he asks if she would rather be dropped off at home or his place. For a split second there’s a thrill that starts in her tummy and works it way down, because it’s so suggestive and so adult. In the end it’s a night of cuddling on the sofa, splitting a greasy pizza and him turning a blind eye to her sneaking a beer or two -she does _not_ like beer, but it makes her feel a little more grown up. 

When she wakes up the following morning he’s combing his fingers through her hair and she feels tingly from her scalp to her toes. “Hey…” 

He smirks in return, “Hey yourself, sleep alright?” 

“The sofa was a little lumpy for me and it kept snoring, but yeah I guess it was alright.” She squints up at him with a teasing smile and he tries to smother her out with a pillow. She surrenders to him once the tickling starts and her apology for insinuating that he snores is to make him breakfast. 

He accepts the bowl of cereal graciously; “So Princess, now what?” 

She pauses to take a bite of her own cereal, “You tell me, I’ve got two weeks before I ship out.” 

And it’s like this weight is placed in between them. Like all of a sudden there’s this heaviness and tension, because she is leaving in two weeks. She promised to stay behind so she could see Wells and Octavia off, but she never fathomed that she’d need more time to say goodbye to Bellamy. He looks just as torn, like he wants to say something but can’t find the words or is about to spring into action but is being physically restrained. They finish their cold breakfast in silence and then head back to the couch, they flip a coin and she loses so they end up watching a boring and outdated documentary on the rise of the Ottoman Empire. But her head is on his shoulder and his arm around hers and she swears that halfway through he’s pressed a kiss to her head. 

The next two weeks fly by! Wells is packed and headed to New Jersey and this time Clarke cannot go with. Her recruiter gave her the okay for the trip to Virginia, but she’s so close to her ship out date that he can’t have her risk anything. It’s a tearful goodbye. Wells was her very first friend and even when she was caught up with Octavia or her own drama, he never backed off. He literally forced himself into her and O’s friendship, but the payoff was so worth it. She’s literally a sobbing mess while Bellamy holds her close and Thelonius’ car fades into the sunset and it’s so cheesy she starts to laugh through her tears. And the thing is, Bellamy doesn’t let her go, he lets her pull back just enough so she can look up at him and him down at her, but he never gives her the space to back up. This time she knows for sure he’s kissed her because he starts at her forehead, moves to the bridge of her nose and finally claims her mouth with his. 

It’s like fire searing over her body. 

It’s like the feeling of falling, like how she’d get while riding a roller coaster. 

It’s everything she could ever imagine and then some, because this is _Bellamy Blake_ and he means so much to her. So much that she can’t even put it into words! Where Clarke is unsure, Bellamy is confident. Where Clarke is blemished, Bellamy is like a marble statue preserved over time. Where Clarke is flighty, Bellamy is steady and his hands are cupping her face and his tongue is moving against hers and their eyes are closed and.. And… 

And three days later Clarke is leaving, but Bellamy is nowhere to be found. He’s not at home. He’s not at the bookshop or coffee shop -both of which had been summer jobs of his for years. She doesn’t let it show that it upsets her that she is six hours away from leaving and 72 hours away from that magical moment, but in opposite directions. She doesn’t let it show how much it hurts that he’s not there when Octavia calls her via FaceTime and has tears rolling down her cheeks. She doesn’t let it get to her when Marcus and his adopted brother (who will be temporarily living with them while his mother recovers from open heart surgery) John arrive and she’s engulfed in arms that are not Bellamy’s -thankfully John opted for a handshake. She’s not crying because he’s not there when her recruiter pulls up in a sleek sedan with government plates, or when he introduces himself and says “You must be very proud of Clarke, I have no doubt she’s going to do wonderful things for our country.” and Bellamy didn’t get to hear it! She doesn’t feel the fire that had been lit within her just three days ago extinguish when Aurora Blake comes pulling up in a rush and frantic. 

“Thank God! I thought I was going to miss you!” And this woman who acted more like a mother than her very own flesh and blood pulls her against her body and rocks her and soothes her, because Clarke Griffin is crying and it’s not loud or obnoxious, but the tears are there. “Hush now, it’ll be fine! You’re going to show up, kick ass and take names! I’m so proud of you sweetie. I promise I’ll write to you every chance I get, now go start your life.” And she pushes Clarke back, smoothes away her tears and kisses her cheek and pats her on the arm. 

For all extensive purposes Clarke did not plan on an emotional goodbye with her mother. She didn’t think their relationship (although better, but not what it should be) warranted it. But Abby is standing there looking at her in a way that Clarke’s always dreamed of and the young Griffin woman can’t help but launch into a hug with her _mother_ Dr. Abigail “Abby” Griffin. Her mother is blinking back tears and smoothing down the loose ends of her hair, because Clarke could never braid her own hair to save her life, but she never let Abby do it either. “Remember, we’re the good guys… alright?” 

And Clarke wants to ask what she means, but her time is up and her recruiter is ushering her along into the passenger seat of his car. And her heart breaks, because even as she’s driving away she’s searching for freckles and eyes that remind her of a forest. She’s looking for a smirk or a mock salute that would reassure her or something that is so typically Bellamy… only it never pops up and suddenly anything that reminds her of him makes her feel like the acid in her stomach is clawing its way up her throat. She does a great job at telling herself it doesn’t bother her, she’s convinced herself and her family and her recruiter. 

She doesn’t have to convince Wells, because he’s always known and she listens to him ramble on about his dorm and roommate while she huddles under the stiff blankets of the hotel. Wakeup call is 0400hrs (which is four in the morning) and then she’s off to her final round of MEPS and then it’s to the airport where she’ll be put on a plane and sent to Fort Lackland in San Antonio, Texas for eight weeks of BMT (basic military training). She meets some of the men and women that she’ll be suffering alongside with, but the conversations are kept short. Nobody wants to share their life stories in these moments. 

It is the middle of the night by time Clarke gets her flight assignment and is led to the dorms where forty-five other girls are also being led. They’re told they get two minutes to change before lights out, so pick a bunk and go! It feels like she’s slept for mere seconds before lights are flicked on, frantic yelling is being thrown from different directions and somewhere between calling her mom for a brief forty-five seconds from an index card that’s held in front of her face; “Hello, it’s Clarke! I’m calling to let you know that I made it safely and that this could be the last time you talk to me for a while. Don’t worry, everything is going to be fine. I’ll talk to you when I can, goodbye!” 

* * *

They call the transition from the night they enter the training grounds to the official start of the following week “0 Week”. This is when they begin to strip everyone of their own identities, everyone receives the same matching and bare uniforms. Everyone must match, nobody is to stand out, if you stand out it is a problem. Everyone receives orders; chores and jobs for both within the dorms and out in the field. For Clarke she’s told to polish. She is to polish every doorknob, door plate, mirror frame, locker frames, and spigot until they are perfect. When she’s outside she is leading the cadence, “But you have to earn that first Griffle.” 

They strip these fresh eyed recruits of everything including their name. Clarke is called Blondie, Griffle and much to her disgust Princess. She keeps quiet and does as she’s told, she accepts the screaming in her face for missing a corner in her bedsheets. At the end of that half of week she polishes the chrome on her floor to the point of blisters on her fingertips and when her instructor Staff Sergeant Pike smears his dirty boot along every door plate of the floor she goes again. And again. And again. 

* * *

Week One is also known as “Flight Formation Week” and it’s the start of all the good stuff. It’s the start of the stuff Clarke had prepared for. This is where they begin to learn commands, how to properly salute -and damn if she doesn’t feel something stir within her every morning at dawn. She’s participating in conversations with the girls of her flight more. Three had already dropped. Staff Sgt. Pike still insists on calling her Princess and taunts her during their runs and physical drills. She’s already established herself as a physical asset, she’s already met the basic requirements for females to pass BMT. At the end of the week they get to receive their first round of mail, the instructors are watching all members of the 331st Training Squadron to see if anyone reacts. She doesn’t even look at the envelopes until she’s back in her bunk. 

There’s letters from her mother, Aurora Blake, Octavia and Wells and even Marcus Kane. Her heart sinks a little at the lack of a letter from Bellamy, but she pretends that he did and she writes a response into a little journal that she was allowed to keep. All of her personal belongings are accessible to her instructors so she keeps it simple. She doesn’t address the faux response to anyone instead she dates it and writes; _I’ve made it through the first week and a half, it’s the hardest thing I’ve done so far and it’ll only get harder. Things are good though and I think you’d be proud of me._

* * *

Week Two comes around and this is the start of career counseling. This is also where they stress about the importance of suicide awareness and looking out for your brothers and sisters in arms. They’ve already received their weapons and will now begin further training to better understand use. “You will know this weapon inside and out. This will be your companion for the next several weeks. If you drop or abuse this weapon in any way, shape or form you will be punished.” 

And when the instructors say “You” what they really mean is _all_ of you. Because now these men and women are part of a cohesive team and they are to build each other up and support each other. Clarke comes to rely on her bunk-mate who is so much better at folding crips corners into her sheets and in return Clarke reviews all of their book material with her during all their free time -in what free time they have. This is also the week where receiving mail becomes a daily thing, so Clarke has received some fun pieces.

A handful of her old teachers have written her. She’s of course receiving routine letters from her friends and family, with the addition of John Murphy. She reads about the passing of Mrs. Kane and how Marcus is torn up about it, so much so that he didn’t even bother to respond to Clarke’s letter, yet according to John it was all he could talk about for hours. She finds it endearing that this stranger (to her) would take it upon himself to respond to her letter to Marcus. A little strange, but it could be worse. 

She’s taken to writing to Bellamy everyday, no matter what. Even though she isn’t actually sending letters. She opens her little notebook, she writes her message that she wishes she could send to him and she leaves them unaddressed. When it’s her turn to sit down and discuss which job she’s qualified for and interested Pike inquires about her notebook. She tells him her father was an Airman, that he was killed in action three years ago. He accepts this answer and accepts her honesty when she says she wants to pursue an opportunity with becoming part of the Pararescue team. She understands that job is not just given to anyone and that just because she’s initiated some interest does not guarantee her the right to a spot in their division. She does ask for the chance to prove herself and Pike tells her it’s a real possibility. 

He also stops calling her Princess. 

* * *

Week Three is all legalities of war and conflict and anti-terrorism techniques. She’s been given the opportunity to sit with a Senior Airman who happens to be a Pararescuer. He answers all of her questions and she answers his. Her flight loses one more girl this week and Clarke is sad to see her go. Their physical training has remained stagnant, and she’s starting to push herself towards the male qualification times and numbers. She writes in her journal at the end of the week; _I know this was the right choice, I can feel it in my very being in my soul! And believe it or not, I sat in a chapel for the first time ever in my whole life, it was peaceful and warm… it reminded me of you and your eyes or your arms whenever you held me._

She goes back in the next day after her new entry and crosses out the last line from the night before. It’s far too personal and emotional and if Fox (her bunk-mate) knew she was that much of a sap she’d be sure to tell Monroe and Monroe would tell Bree and the cycle never ends. This is also the first week that Octavia hasn’t written, of course Clarke had sent an extra letter in concern, but she’s still received no response. It was a little unsettling, but the girls around her put her worries to ease with silly reminders; “Civilian life Clarke, what can you do about it?” 

* * *

Week Four is more tactile, literally, the 331st Training Squadron -the Wolfpack, is coming together to learn the basics of hand to hand combat, cover and concealment and self-defense. Of course the females are never partnered with the males, but on a rare occasion the instructors may pay two people of the opposite sex off for demonstration purposes. Like when they’re teaching the females how to protect themselves against predators. The air of the squadron is a little lighter than it had been a month prior. They can all laugh and joke now, the instructors are no longer yelling -unless someone fucks up, but instead they’re teaching and guiding. They’re taking the individuals that they’ve stripped apart and placing them back together as a whole as a unit. 

She’s received letters from Wells, John and her mother the last two weeks routinely. Still nothing from Octavia or Aurora and of course nothing from Bellamy. Clarke knows that the upcoming week she’ll be away from the dorms, away from mail calls and she dreads coming back to more silence from her chosen family. She finally concedes on Thursday and asks her mother if she knows anything, she also explains that she won’t be able to receive mail throughout the following week but not to worry. And then the real fun starts. 

* * *

BEAST Week is hands down the hardest week Clarke has endured so far at Fort Lackland. It stands for Basic Expeditionary Airman Skills Training and it includes the gas chamber, the CATM (Combat Arms Training and Maintenance) and FTX’s (Field Training Exercises). They’re dropped in a designated section of training grounds and they’re given a mission. They must execute the mission in real time as they would in combat. It’s exhilarating and challenging and Clarke is _caked_ in mud and dirt, sweat and grime, and blood. At the end of the exercise she’s given one of her two dog tags and her throat closes up enough to make it difficult to breathe. Staff Sgt. Pike hands it to her with the words, “You’ve earned this Griffin, now you have to earn the rest.” 

When they get back to the dorms they’re rewarded with shower time, like real and actual shower time. They get some time to decompress from the activities of the week. Clarke catches up with mail, she’s received a couple letters from John and Wells and one from her mother. She also has one addressed to her from Octavia and her heart swells in relief and joy. She starts with that one and pauses once she processes the words. 

_...My mom got sick and she’s not getting better, Bellamy has been taking care of her. I’m scared Clarke and you aren’t here to help me through it and it sucks..._

Clarke writes her reply and demands answers. She needs to know what kind of sick they’re talking about and she needs to know for long. She asks how Bellamy is holding up and how Octavia has managed with school. She reminds her friend that her mother is strong and fierce and that she would want Octavia to battle through these hard times and come out stronger. Later that night after lights out she stares at the bottom of the top bunk, she can’t sleep because she’s consumed with this anxiety. She’s already written in her journal for the day, filling Bellamy in on all the things she accomplished during the week, but she reaches for it once more and this time she fills two pages of stories and memories of Aurora. She expresses her fears that she’s missing out on something so important, that she should be there but she isn’t. Fox pops her head down at some point, “Go to sleep Griffin or we’ll have our asses chewed out.” 

* * *

Week Six is evaluation week, both physical and academic. They have to pass their written tests which are compiled of the history of the Air Force, the mission of the Air Force and other general aspects of knowledge relevant to serving in the military. Once they’ve properly prepared for the written tests and taken them the Wolfpack is sent out for their physical evaluations. Clarke is handed both her final scores during her final sit down with Staff Sgt. Pike, and is shocked to see her score ranging in the top percentile of her entire squadron. 

“Well Griffin, I’d say you’ve earned your right to call a cadence and I’d also say you’ve got a pretty fair shot at earning a spot in the SW Prep course.” Staff Sgt. Pike looks relaxed as he leans back in his big comfy leather chair in the small office and he’s smirking at her with a glint of pride. “An invitation for graduation has been sent to your family, they’ve RSVP'd with the amount of seats they’d need. I’m sure you’re excited to see them.” 

Clarke didn’t know any of that, nobody has mentioned anything in their letters, but instead of showing that confusion she just nods, “I am very excited Sir! I’m excited to start my future.” 

And upon releasing her he reminds her that she already has. She feels as if there’s some kind of hidden agenda within his words, but she can’t think about it. She goes straight to her journal… she’s starting to run out of pages and she’s excited for the opportunity to be able to purchase a whole new one to fill. 

* * *

Week Seven, Graduation Week, it’s like the light at the end of the tunnel! They’re expecting family and they’re detailing the dorms like crazy. They’ve been informed of the schedule and Clarke knows that she should expect to see whoever it is that opted to attend her graduation at the end of the Airman’s run. The night before, Wednesday, the squadron is gathered in the quad below the dorms. They’re seated on the cold concrete and their attention is on their instructors and Clarke is hit with a feeling of...grief? Of sadness? She can’t really tell… but all she knows is that after tomorrow they’re no longer Trainee’s. They’ll become Airmen and they’ll all receive their own orders and missions. These people that she’s worked with, sweat with, bled with… that she cried with and was humiliated with… they’re part of her somehow and she’s afraid that she’ll be lost without them. 

“Griffin!” 

Clarke pops up; “Sir, Trainee Griffin reporting as ordered Sir!” 

She’s handed a black tee shirt. On the front right over her heart is the 331st Training Squadron shield and on the back is their logo. They’re the _Wolfpack_ and they’re unstoppable! And damn it if she doesn’t feel this immense pride as she grips that tee-shirt and looks up at Staff Sgt. Pike. They share a nod in understanding and she’s sent back into formation. At the end as they’re making their way back upstairs Clarke gets the go ahead to start the cadence and so she does and her voice carries through the crowd and they’re lively and bright eyed.

The next morning they’re up, like normal and they’re in their PT gear with their squadron tee shirts and getting ready to go. One person from every flight is assigned as the flag carrier, for Clarke’s flight it’s this girl named Zoe Monroe. One of the girls that Clarke has grown close with during the entire experience and she’s _beaming_. And then they start. 

The cheers are almost deafening by time they make their way around. Clarke is chanting as loud as she possibly can and she’s trying so hard not to scan the crowd. She’s prepared to see her mother and Marcus, maybe even John! She’s understanding that Octavia and Wells would probably not be there, but she’s not prepared for the excruciating disappointment at not seeing Bellamy. Their run is complete, some of the girls are teary eyed because they did see their families and others are the same because they know they aren’t going to see any family. Clarke feels somewhere in between. 

Two hours later it’s the official ceremony and they’re back in formation, but this time she realizes it’s for the last time -with these people. Her entire military life will be in formation and it’s comforting to think about. They receive their congratulations from Major Byrne. They receive their second dog-tags and their coins and it’s the most satisfying moment in Clarke’s life to date. She wishes more than anything that her father was here, physically, because she’s been reassured enough times to actually believe that he’s there spiritually. And then the moment that every single person in that stage area is waiting for happens and families are reunited. 

It feels like something out of a movie, everything around Clarke is muted as she’s looking for her people -or maybe just her person, she’s still not sure who she’s supposed to be looking for. And then it happens, she has her arms and legs wrapped around him and he’s telling her how proud he is and he’s so happy to see her and beside her Octavia is laughing; “Swear to God, I never thought I’d ever see this.” 

She’s back on the ground and wiping at her eyes and she’s got Octavia in her arms next and then Wells. John is holding his hand out and she pulls him in for a tight hug too. Clarke is not shocked to find out that her mother couldn’t attend the ceremony or the whole weekend, she’s disappointed but not shocked. She’s grateful that her mother and Marcus were kind enough to secure the whole weekend for her friends and even fronted their travel expenses. She doesn’t complain, they’ll have most of tomorrow and the entirety of Saturday to bond. For the remainder of the day she gets to show her people where she’s lived and thrived. 

They share a meal and they laugh and it’s so normal it hurts. She’s going to miss these moments, but the name on her uniform and the insignia on her arm is so worth it. Parting from them is the hardest part of the entire day, she hugs each of them for an extra second or two. Bellamy is the last one of the group to pull away; “I’ve missed you Princess.” 

She quirks an eyebrow, “You have a funny way of showing it Bell…”

He looks around, to avoid her eyes, because they’re different now. He can’t find the light and innocence that used to rest there, instead they’re hard and bright and _different_ . She feels perfect against him, like she always had and her voice could carry through a million people and he’d still be able to point it out. The Clarke that he knows was soft and unpredictable and this woman before him is confident and steady. It’s like a whole new level of attractive to him. He owes her though, because he could have written her and he chose not to. He wanted to, God did he _want_ to, but things were unsure and scary. So instead of acknowledging her justified accusation he shrugs and smirks and then says; “I’ll see you tomorrow Princess.” 

The next morning she takes her oath and this time she’s doing so as an Airman, but once the moment is over she’s free to spend the weekend in San Antonio with her people. She has to report back to Fort Lackland by 1800hrs Sunday so she can receive her new rooming assignment and then she begins the next eight weeks in the Special Warfare Preparatory Course. The weekend moves quickly, it’s not enough time to get the answers she wants but, it’s just enough for her to make it through the next eight weeks. Plus, now she can openly communicate whenever she’s free and that makes it feel less distant. Things are going to be different, they are, but it’ll be good.

She’s not prepared for how wrong she is. 

* * *

It takes Clarke over a year to finally become a Pararescuer. She spent five more months in Texas before she was sent to Panama City, Florida for her Combat Diver Course. From there she was sent to Fort Benning, Georgia for her Airborne School -it was nice because it lined up with Octavia’s spring break and while she wasn’t overly excited about spending what was supposed to be a wild week of fun and illegal activity, she was excited to see Clarke. A month later she's splitting time between Yuma, Arizona and Jamul, California learning how to free-fall out of a plane. She’s in Fairchild, Washington when she receives word that despite the odds Aurora Blake has beaten her breast cancer and is in remission. She ends her tour of training by receiving her EMT-B and Paramedic in New Mexico on Kirtland Air Force Base. And then she spends another twenty-two weeks apprenticing under senior Pararescuers before she’s finally sent on her first deployment. 

She’s a proud part of the 58th Rescue Squadron, she’s a Guardian Angel and she’s proud to serve under the 563rd Rescue Group and is primarily stationed on the Nellis Air Force Base in Nevada. She’s on twelve month rotations, twelve months stateside with one week leave and twelve months overseas in an undisclosed location responding to missions and downed Airmen in active combat. A lot of times they’re working alongside the USMC and Marines are rough, but she’d rather have a Marine on her six than nobody. 

She’s in Afghanistan for the first time when Wells is killed by a drunk driver. It would be the second half of his junior year and he was walking back to the house he shared with three other guys after a late night seminar when a drunk driver passed out behind the wheel and essentially crushed Wells to death. She’s out on a mission when her mother sends the first email, but the mission takes a whole thirty-six hours and it’s her first successful mission so when they get back to base she and her crew celebrate around a fire in an old oil bin. She gets caught up around base the following day and doesn’t take the time allotted for her to get on to the computer. When she finally does get online it’s been three days since Wells’ death and her commanding officer gives her the time for a satellite call. Her mother doesn’t answer and she doesn’t know Thelonius’ number. She sends another two emails to her mother before she’s called back for another mission. 

Clarke misses the funeral, of course not by her choice, but because the communication never worked out and by the time that it did she wouldn’t have had the capability to request an emergency leave. After talking with one of her senior officers she’s informed that it wouldn’t have made a difference, Wells isn’t actually family nor would he be considered immediate family. In the end there’s nothing Clarke can do and it kills her, because Wells was her first friend and her very best friend and she’s let him down. The next time she gets online, she has several nasty emails from Octavia and one disappointed one from her mother. Marcus sends her an email that reassures her that everyone will understand one day and she doesn’t doubt him, she just wishes it didn’t have to be. She completes her mission with two souls lost, otherwise everyone her crew lifts is alive when they’re transported from their base in the desert. 

She is given two weeks once she’s stateside again, it’s the only consolation that the Air Force can make. It’s a tense visit, Bellamy (who she still hasn’t really talked to, written to, yes but he’d never see those) is unavailable. Octavia has no idea what he’s been up to, just that he’s found some hobbies and Clarke hums in response. It’s different without Wells there to play peacemaker, because Octavia is a little harsher than Clarke would expect. Clarke wants to tell Octavia about her first deployment and about all the lives she’s saved and that it wasn’t anything like she ever expected. Instead she asks about her soccer, about her classes and professors, Clarke asks and asks and asks and in the end Octavia doesn’t want to give anything more than basic responses. 

Clarke gets sent back to Afghanistan the following year and that time it’s a little harder. There’s a new girl on their team, her name is Raven Reyes and she’s a pilot. She’s a little intense and has essentially made Clarke her enemy immediately upon meeting her, but she knows her shit and she keeps steady flights. They’re about four months in when they’re sent out on their first rescue mission and in the end they lose him, he’s got too much damage from an IED on the side of the road and Clarke is pissed off. They’re back on base and Raven is sneering at her and before any other member of their crew can say anything Clarke snaps; “I’m doing the _best_ that I can Reyes and if you think _you_ can do it better, then go the fuck ahead!” 

They’re told to go somewhere and cool off, but the next day they’re both in the hanger and it’s awkward and tense. Clarke is checking over her gear and cleaning her supplies when Raven walks over, “Hey, so… I was told that I was out of line yesterday.” 

“Yeah?” 

Raven nods, “I don’t think I could do any better than you, there’s a reason I’m just a pilot. It’s just the first time I’ve ever seen anything like that and I snapped.” 

Clarke nods, “Don’t let it happen again Reyes.” 

“Yes Ma’am.”

When they get back to their base in Nevada things are much easier between them and at all of their debriefings Clarke insists that Raven is their pilot permanently. Once Raven finds out she seeks Clarke out in the dorms; “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone's first choice before.” 

Clarke moves away from the door and ushers her into her small base issued room, “Well Reyes, I’d choose you every time.” 

And it’s the start of a beautiful friendship. They get an apartment ten miles off of base and the landlord is willing to work with them throughout their deployments, which is great for them. And it’s great because Clarke gets to be in the US for her twenty-first birthday! She plans to take her week home around it, but Octavia is upset because she won’t be able to join in, not officially as her birthday is still months away. Rave and O hit off pretty immediately and Clarke is feeling a little better about being home. 

“So Clarke, what’s your rank now?” Aurora invited Clarke for brunch and she feels bad that Raven wasn’t included, but Raven is still hungover so maybe it’s ok. Octavia is there, but she’s quieter than normal and almost looks smaller. “Are you calling the shots yet?” 

Aurora is pale and shaky, Clarke notes internally to herself, “I’m just a lowly Technical Sergeant, if I’m lucky I’ll be able to make Master Sergeant before retirement.” 

Octavia sits up straighter; “Retirement? So you’re thinking of making this a lifelong thing?” 

Clarke blinks rapidly; “Uh, I haven’t given a lot of thought to it, but it’s what I love. I’m working on a college degree online though, so maybe once I’ve completed that I can finish out my contract.” 

Octavia just nods, but then she’s briskly excusing herself from the sambe table they’ve sat around for hours at a time. Then it’s just Clarke and Aurora, “Please excuse her, she’s just nervous about the end of her college years.” 

“Yeah, but she must be pretty excited. I know I would be if I was getting job offers like that.” 

The two women finish brunch in a tense silence and as Clarke is leaving she hugs Aurora. There’s a sinking feeling in her stomach, like this is the final time she’ll ever get to hug Aurora and she wants to ask Octavia about it, but can’t. It’s like there’s this wall between the blonde and brunette, it’s tall and thick and Clarke knows she could do more to break it down, but she’s tired. She’s tired of being the one to fix things, she’s tired of being the responsible one and for making the hard decisions. She just wants Octavia to come _to her_ , she wants Octavia to approach the topic with the effort to fix it, she wants and wants and _wants._

She gets angry emails and Facebook messages instead, almost ten months later while Clarke is in Germany preparing for another round in the Middle East. They’re literally shipping out in twelve hours and Clarke’s notifications are blowing up, but her phone remains silent. Aurora Blake passed away a week ago and Clarke didn’t reach out. Clarke hadn’t known, but to Octavia the offense had already been made and soon they’re arguing and Clarke was calling her and begging for a chance to explain. 

“I had no idea O!” 

Octavia snorts angrily; “You never do! You’re so busy trying to save everyone else that you can’t see that you’re the monster.” 

“O…”

But she’s not done, “No Clarke, I’ve had enough. I’ve been your supportive friend through this entire adventure of yours and not once have you ever considered how I feel! My mother is dead and my best friend didn’t even try to get a stupid pass to come home for the funeral. Bellamy is wrecked! I figured you’d understand the best out of any of my friends, but I got nothing from you.” 

And then Clarke is angry, because how dare she? How dare Octavia be so selfish and difficult? “You know what Octavia, I’m sorry that my hands are tied and that there is nothing I can do about it. I’m sorry that I chose a career and a life that I find rewarding and that I love, but do you know I’ve deployed to active combat twice now and _not once_ have you ever asked how I handled it or if I was okay.” 

“You’re picking and choosing who lives and dies Clarke, I don’t need to ask to know you’re not okay,” and Clarke is frozen in her place, “but it’s not my fucking job to hold your hand through the decisions you make. That’s on you.” 

And the line goes dead, Octavia has blocked her number and Facebook. She tries desperately to get a hold of Bellamy but nothing goes through to him either and it’s like this spear has drug through Clarke’s entire being. She doesn’t eat or sleep before they’re loaded up and flown to their next mission. Raven notices and asks, but Clarke has nothing to offer. She isn’t really sure how to respond, because everything is wrong, but the mission must be executed. So rolls through the motions, she saves who she can and she puts her all into saving the ones that she knows are too far gone. In the end the year is a success and they’re back home. She’s drinking on base to cope with the losses both professionally and personally. She’s almost flagged from flying out the following year for what’s going to be her final deployment. Clarke refuses to let her career end that way, so she sober ups and finds herself in the desert once more and everything seems ok for the first few months. 

It’s the worst experience of Clarke’s life, because they're landing and deploying down to collect their fellow Airmen whose humvee had struck an IED. And then it’s open fire from the enemy. “Fuck!” she’s screaming as she’s reaching for a firearm. It’s mass chaos for what feels like forever, but it’s only been minutes. Someone has already called the mayday and another team is being sent out to collect her and her people. “Raven! Raven, damn it answer me!” 

Clarke is bloody and bruised and she knows she’s been hit at least once, but she’s coherent enough to know that it’s not fatal. Or maybe it’s just the shock, but she’s crawling around and she finds Raven just outside of their chopper. _They never should have landed_ , Clarke thinks to herself, they never should have created a full landing zone, they had all gotten too comfortable with the lapse in violence that they just took the easy way out. Raven is propped up with her handgun ready to go, there’s a lot of blood towards the torso of her uniform but she’s awake and oriented. 

“Reyes! Status report!” 

Raven snaps her eyes to Clarke who’s crouched low with her own fire-arm ready, their own recon crew is already enroute and will be arriving any second. “Took a hit to the back Griffin, hurts like a bitch, but otherwise I’m fine. Chopper’s down for the count, pissed because she’s my favorite.” 

Clarke laughs humorlessly; “I’m calling par for the others, hang tight Reyes.” and almost everyone is ok, if not a little banged up. There’s some shallow and superficial gunshot wounds, which leads the Second Lieutenant who has been in charge of the patrol unit to surmise that it wasn’t a skilled group attack. It’s not reassuring, but he could figure it’s probably a secluded incident, more than likely just a small group of unsatisfied citizens. Clarke isn’t convinced or reassured. She doesn’t have much time to think about it, because she’s assisting the next set of pararescuers in loading up their people until she’s being loaded up herself, she’s holding Raven’s hand and barking out orders. 

Raven has a sheen coat of sweat coating her face and she’s wincing in pain, they’re going through their trauma checks when one of the medics asks her to move her feet. He asks her again and she replies, “I am! Jesus, can’t you feel it through the boots?” 

And then Clarke is jumping into action, “Raven, can you feel this?” 

Raven watches with wide and terrified eyes as Clarke starts tapping down her leg, she’s assuring that yes she can feel everything and then she stops and Clarke asks her again just like the medic had and Raven starts panting; “I can’t feel that Clarke… Clarke I’m telling my foot to move and it’s not moving! Clarke!” 

“Alright, alright; Raven don’t panic, I’ve got you ok?” And Clarke continues on, the medic is bustling around her, he’s trying to get some kind of vital sign reading for her, but she’s too busy fussing over her friend to notice. They have transport immediately available for Raven once they land again, but Clarke knows she’s not going and she’s trying to bite back the tears. “You’re going to be fine Raven, ok?” 

“Get home alive Clarke or I’ll kick your ass!” 

“See ya on the other side Reyes, remember you’re still my top choice!” and the doors are sliding shut and the engines are roaring and Clarke is being led to the medical building to be checked out. It’s the first time Clarke is the patient and they’re asking her a whole series of questions and in the end she’s given the all clear. Her commanding officer is taking her off of rotation, their chopper is gone and the team is missing a pilot and none of them are really up for going out again. Which is a lie, because Clarke knows she’d be back out there in a second. It’s their mission to assist downed Airmen and she will not let the mission fail. Even if it kills her. 

* * *

Clarke has been in Arkadia, Maryland for almost two years when John Murphy visits Marcus again. She’s been staying in her old bedroom, which had been modernized and no longer feels like her own, and she’s genuinely happy to see John after so long. He looks good and Clarke is shocked to find out that John has won a couple titles with the UFC and she’s pleased to know that he’s retired from the ring, but he owns and operates his own gym in Rhode Island. “What can I say? My last tournament was there and it was just such a scenic state that I decided to stay.” 

“Well that’s good, glad to hear that it’s going well for you.” Clarke’s voice is smaller these days, the bags under eyes are thicker and her hands are shakier. She came home at the end of her last contract and she came home to a mess she’s been trying to handle and clean up. Her mom broke her dominant hand a few years back which has ended her career as a surgeon and at the time Clarke figured that was alright, because Abby had been more into politics by that point anyway. Only it hadn’t been alright and the pain prescription they put her on left her feeling a little too good. This is Abby’s first round through an in-patient rehabilitation center and Marcus (her now husband, one of the few life events Clarke was able to witness in the last eight years or so) has been wonderful and understanding and supportive. 

Clarke though? Clarke is not well. She jumps at fireworks when she’s not expecting them, 

“That’s totally normal for someone who’s seen combat Clarke, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Marcus had reassured her during her first Labor Day weekend home, she would expect fireworks for Independence Day, New Year’s and maybe even for big festivals -not that Arkadia held any of those. Still, she broke a glass from dropping it and then cut her hand up trying her best to pick up the pieces. Additionally; she’s not sleeping and she jokes about it and says it’s just her adjusting to civilian life again. Except that it’s been two years and she still hasn’t let herself relax enough to sleep. No, it’s usually once she reaches the point of pure exhaustion and her body physically gives out on her that she finally gets rest.

She seems to do a little better after visiting Raven Reyes at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington D.C., it looks promising for the Latina warrior. As it were, the bullet that hit her had been resting against her spine and her options were pretty drastic. She could opt to leave the bullet and have to live with the occasional bout of pain in her lower back, which didn’t sound all that bad, but she’d lose the use of her legs indefinitely. Or, she could risk a very tricky and dangerous surgery to remove the bullet from the spine, she would eventually be able to walk again, but she’d always need assistance via a specialty brace and a can or possibly crutches. She’d also be in pain for almost the rest of her life; the doctors really couldn’t tell her the exact duration of pain from start to finish. Raven chose the surgery, and two years later she was finally being transitioned into physical therapy! Clarke enjoyed spending the weekends in D.C. with her friend and helping her through the rehabilitation process and she always seemed a little bit more like _Clarke_ when she came home. 

John joins her the weekend he visits Marcus and he’s enjoying himself while they’re exploring the National Mall while Raven is in with her doctors. They’ll take dinner back to the other girls room in about an hour, so John figures it’s the best time to make his position clear. “So, Marcus says you completed a degree in education while you were in the service.” 

“Yes, nothing specific or grand.” 

“Still impressive, you know given the circumstances.” Clarke nods into her drink, she’s taken up drinking pretty regularly and while John can’t judge he knows it’s not her thing. “Look the real reason I came down to visit Marcus was to see you.” 

Clarke finishes her mixed drink and then she flags over the server, only she orders a water and Raven’s food request and then acknowledges the previous statement. “Did he call you to express his concern?” 

John shakes his head and picks at their leftover fries. “Nothing like that, he’s worried of course, but I offered to come down.” 

“Alright,” she leans a little closer on the table and smirks and it’s the first time he’s really seen the glimpse of the Clarke he knew years ago, however brief those moments had been, “so what’s up?” 

“I have an upcoming fighter who is participating in a charity fight event in about six months. He’s a little older than the normal fighters that are scouted out, but he’s got some talent. I’m working on putting together an official team for him and we need someone with some medical training to do all the physical checks and stuff.” 

“And so you wanted to ask me?” 

John shrugs; “Well yeah, only temporarily! I know you told Marcus that the medical field isn’t where you want to stay, but it could take a while to find a good decent teaching position too.” 

Clarke looks contemplative as she toys with the idea. “I’d have to relocate to Rhode Island?” 

“Yes,” and John begins to build his argument, “you’ll love the town Clarke! Wickford Village is literally something out of a Hallmark movie. It’s nice and quiet and it’s literally five minutes away from this quiet beach town. Rent is affordable and the school district is small but large enough for lots of opportunities.” 

“And if I decide I don’t want to be a teacher?” 

John licked at his lips and smirked, “The art scene isn’t so bad either.” 

Clarke smiled softly; “Alright John, I’ll think about it.” 

And she does, John has to head back to Rhode Island on Monday and Clarke is actually sad to see him go. He’s a crass man and he makes inappropriate comments and she just isn’t sure if she can completely trust him. But, he seemed sincere and had legitimate paperwork on him for her to review and that soothed her a little bit. In reality Wickford is only about six hours away from Arkadia and only an additional thirty minutes from D.C. so visits to her mother and Raven could still be done. In fact Raven seemed almost excited about the opportunity. 

“Think about it Clarke! Mysterious UFC fighter? God it sounds like one of those stupid trashy novels we used to find around base!” Raven laughed as she picked at the Chinese food. 

“It would be a professional opportunity Raven and one I don’t even know if I want to commit to.” 

Raven nods and the conversation turns serious; “I know we don’t talk about it, but I think you should talk to _someone_ about this.” 

“I could go through the VA and find someone I’m sure,” Clarke picks at the Lo Mein, “even though I’ve told you time and time again that I’m fine.” 

“You’re not, but I’m not going to argue with you.” 

“Oh thank goodness for that, but really, what do you think?” 

Raven smiled brightly. “I think I’ll be seeing you in Rhode Island by the end of the year bitch!” 

* * *

Clarke has been settled in Wickford for about two months before the first series of attacks happen. She’s unpacking in the small one bedroom apartment that rests above a shop off of Main Street when she starts shaking. The shop owner, a sweet old man that insists on her calling him Jedd, comes rushing up when he hears her scream. She’s tucked into herself on the ground and there’s glass from a broken picture frame surrounding her and Jedd doesn’t really know what to do. He met John Murphy a long time ago when the young man first made residence in town after he spent his time as a bigshot fighter. And he remembered her mentioning a relation so Jedd did what he thought was best and called the gym. 

“This is Dropship, how can I help you today?” 

Jedd hoped they couldn’t hear the frantic screams from Clarke and then he hoped they had, because she was panting uncontrollably and he was afraid she was actually dying and he should have called 911 instead. Finally John got to the phone and Jedd didn’t have to explain a whole lot, he just dropped the young lady’s name and John insisted he was on his way over. She had started to gain control of her surroundings by the time John came rushing up the stairs and Jedd was sitting next to her while she took huge gulps of air in. 

“Jesus Clarke.” John huffed out as he came to crouch before her and took her hands. They were clammy and sweaty and her eyes were filled with tears and her breathing was still too fast to be considered normal and he could feel her pulse through the skin of her wrist. “It’s okay Clarke, it’s okay. Hey now, come on now breathe with me. In and out Clarke, that’s it, now again.” 

And ten minutes later she was back and embarrassed and apologizing profusely to her landlord. He had just wanted to know what happened and she had admitted that she wasn’t sure. John asked what she had been doing and then she remembered. “I was unpacking my box of Air Force memorabilia, I haven’t touched it since I came home.” 

John nodded; “Clarke you know I can’t turn a blind eye to this, right?” 

“I know, I know. I’ll figure it out I swear.” 

And then Jedd is clearing his throat; “Well Ma’am, there’s a doctor about thirty minutes out of town. Her name is Luna Woods and she helps veterans around here all the time. She helped my boy when he came home and if it hadn’t been for her well, I wouldn’t have my three grandkids.” 

“Do you still have her contact information?” John asks and Jedd offers to get it out of his office downstairs. The two men stay with Clarke while she sets her first appointment with Luna and John insists that she stay with him until she’s at least had the chance to meet Luna at the end of the week and Jedd agrees that it may be a good idea, but Clarke hates it. She hates the idea that she’s so pathetic and that she needs to be monitored but both men are reassuring that it’s alright. 

Three days later she’s in the front seat of Johns’ car (she doesn’t feel comfortable driving her own) and they’re on their way to meet with Dr. Luna Woods. A psychologist who specializes in treating post traumatic stress disorder, something Clarke had spent an extensive amount of time learning about. Upon arrival to the small little office Clarke feels another bubble of anxiety build only to have John pat her on the shoulder and somewhere deep within her mind twinges because it doesn’t feel right. Nothing does anymore. The moment Clarke meets Dr. Luna Woods she knows that she’ll be in the right set of hands, because the first thing that she realizes is that Dr. Luna Woods is missing both her legs and her prosthetic legs have intricate emblems that Clarke recognizes. 

* * *

John Murphy prides himself on the way he runs his business. He’s fairly priced and has a section of standard workout equipment and a steady group of members. The UFC treated him well and he’s still on the board for some of their events. A lot of his fan-base had been shocked when he announced his decision to settle in Rhode Island, but he found a level of peace there that he hadn’t found anywhere else. Not since Mrs. Kane had taken him off the streets when he was sixteen. She gave him a life that he wasn’t sure he deserved. She put him through school and made sure he finished. She paid for his self defense classes, because he was a target from the street thugs and then when he thought it couldn’t get better he was seventeen and she was adopting him. 

He kept his name, because his father was a good man no matter how his childhood ended up. But she was his savior and the only mother really knew. And then he ended up gaining a brother; a successful politician brother. He had planned to hate Marcus, but in the end he thought Marcus was intelligent and genuine and he truly wanted what was best for the people he represented. Their relationship was still building when he had met Abigail Griffin, he was a little skeptical, but he was always skeptical of the upper class. Soon though he was being invited to meet Abby and if there was one thing he was sure of by time their dinner was over, it was that she was incredibly proud of her daughter. 

And then he got to meet her daughter, for a split second before she was leaving her life behind for a bigger calling. At the end of Clarke’s basic training Abby was too nervous to commit to going. She was afraid that her relationship with her one and only child was beyond repair and she knew the people Clarke wanted to see the most. Marcus and Abby paid for Clarke’s two favorite people to fly down, on the stipulation that John attend as well. And then the tough-ass Octavia mentioned her brother and John pulled the proper strings and then there were four. The weekend was brisk and emotional, but he was happy that he had the chance to go. And the years that followed were a whirlwind. 

Somehow he and Bellamy Blake hit it off, almost literally. Actually, quite literally. Somehow Bellamy assumed that John had the hots for Clarke -gag him, and instead of explaining the real relationship he shared with the spunky short-stack -so he liked embarrassing nicknames, sue him. It ended up in a fight and for the first time outside of the ring John found himself challenged against someone. Soon enough while they each nursed their black eyes and bloody lips they talked about their mixed martial arts backgrounds. John tried to get Bellamy into the UFC scene at the same time that he had taken off, but his mother was sick and the bills were going to start stacking. The only saving grace of that time had been that Octavia was on an athletic scholarship. And then shit blew up between Octavia and Clarke, because Aurora Blake had passed away and Bellamy made him promise he wouldn’t tell Clarke and nobody told O. 

In the end John steps out and lets them handle it. And if he doesn’t agree with how Bellamy responds to the entire situation, he doesn’t say, because he’s not getting involved. Bellamy is a grown ass adult and if he wants to make the biggest mistake of his life then, John Murphy gives his blessing. And then Bellamy has to go and fly off the handle. He’s angry all the time and he’s drinking and he’s picking fights and Octavia is now begging for John to do something, “Because Bellamy listens to you Murphy! I don’t know why, but he does.” 

Eventually Bellamy works through his issues and John finally gets him into a gym. And somehow the older Blake sibling sells his family house in Maryland and moves up into Wickford Village, well not quite, his townhouse is about a fifteen minute drive from Wickford. He decided to make Bellamy a business partner for the gym a couple weeks later, but the condition is that Bellamy has to get his shit together, for real. He managed to complete a Masters in classical studies and he could easily get a job at the community college teaching. He says he’ll consider it when he’s gotten his young energy out. 

He starts to participate in some small local events and does really well and suddenly John is being approached to become an official manager. There’s a tournament in New York City and Bellamy places in the top three and suddenly the UFC is offering a bunch of deals but Bellamy? Bellamy just wants to keep it local, he likes running the gym and he likes bartending at Lincoln’s place and if that’s influenced by the relationship his sister develops with the bar owner Lincoln well that’s just extra incentive. Bellamy even gets himself a girlfriend, her name is Echo and she’s an MMA fighter from out west. She saw him fight in New York and she just had to get to know him. 

They’re together for three years before Bellamy announces he’s single again and he refuses to answer any specific questions about it. In fact, the night that Bellamy makes this announcement is the night that Marcus calls John to inform him that Abby has overdosed. She was alright, well she was alive, and she was seeking help and that was really all Marcus could ask for. They’re all sitting around and it gets awkwardly silent, because most of their friend group only knows who Abby is through John’s brief explanations, but there’s two of them that should be more inclined to hear the details and they don’t. The next day things are back to normal, except Echo has now made herself part of the group -even with her newly single status. She’s not unpleasant, but she’s desperate and it seems that no matter what she does Bellamy will not accept more than friendship from her. 

They’re all sitting around drinking at a bonfire behind the bar in Lincoln’s yard when John gets a call from an unknown number. He passes it to Octavia, she likes to answer junk calls and give them shit. She clicks the phone on speaker and starts, but the voice on the other line starts first; “Before you hear it from my mom or Marcus and freak out I just wanted to let you know I’m fine and everything is fine.” 

“Clarke what the fuck are you talking about?” because he forgets that Octavia and Bellamy don’t care about her anymore, but she sounds like she’s really scared and she’s never called him just to tell him she’s fine, in fact she’s never called him before while overseas. 

“I had to tell Marcus and my mom about the ambush the other day and she mentioned that she had yet to talk to you. I just didn’t want you to freak out, I’m fine!” And he’s filled with a sense of dread over the fact that she couldn’t possibly know about her own mother overdosing in the short time since this ambush she keeps talking about. 

“Well are you going to tell me what happened?” Octavia gets up and leaves the group in a rush and Lincoln is quick to follow but Bellamy is still there staring into the fire. 

“There was an IED and my crew was dispatched to recover two injured members of the crew. There was a small group of assholes with guns waiting. Nobody died, three people were sent to the hospital in Guam, but I’m fine.” 

John hangs his head; “Fuck Clarke, Marcus didn’t mention anything when I talked to him today.” 

“Well, I feel silly now…” Clarke jokes easily, but she’s got a hitch in her voice that has Bellamy clenching his drink tightly, “...I guess I overreacted. Did I disrupt your night?” 

“No Clarke, of course not. You sure you’re ok? You’re not becoming Swiss cheese?” 

She laughs, “Not Swiss cheese, but a couple good grazes. I’ve got a shiner you’d be proud of though. Only because I had my face smacked into the side of the humvee wreckage. I’m on light duty as concussion protocol and my pilot is on her way home with a bullet to the back.” 

“But you’re fine?” 

“Yeah,” she sighs “yeah I’m fine. Alright well, I’ll let you get back to your night. I’m sorry if I freaked you out, but now you can tell Marcus you know what’s going on and he can scramble for a reason as to why he hadn’t told you.” 

John laughs, but it’s not sincere, “Yeah, I’ll do that. Stay safe Clarke, I’ll see you when you’re stateside.” and then the phone disconnects. 

The fire is still crackling minutes later when Echo asks what her and Emori (a familiar face from Las Vegas that also wanted in on the smalltown life, much to John’s pleasure) are thinking. “So, who was that?” 

John waits for Bellamy to spit out some hateful garbage that he’ll have to correct, instead he stays quiet and looks at him. He’s content to just pretend that he too doesn’t know who Clarke is and John is suddenly angry; “She’s my step-niece, more like my sister though because we’re so close in age. She’s uh, over in Afghanistan, she’s one of those badasses that they show on t.v. jumping out of helicopters for emergency medical evacuations and shit. She usually just emails me, so this? This must have shaken her up pretty bad.” 

“Oh, she’s _Clarke_ .” and it’s how Echo says it that has Bellamy launching out his chair and heading towards his car. “I thought she was just some girl from his hometown, like his highschool sweetheart or something. But I never knew who she was, he has this photo of this girl in uniform on his dresser in his room and then there’s a photo of him and her on his bedside table, I used to tease him about them because he never told me who she was. But he was always talking about this girl _Clarke_ …” she pauses to take a sip from her bottle of Sam’s Adams, “...well now I know.” 

John Murphy is anything but comforted for the remainder of Clarke’s final deployment. He understands that she’s been in combat plenty of times, he just doesn’t think that she’s ever been that close to losing the fight. Her emails seem relatively normal though and so he lets the issue rest. On a random Tuesday he’s talking with Marcus, Abby is sleeping -she does an awful lot of that now, and Clarke is brought up. As it appears that would be her last contract with the Air Force for her, she had opted not to re-sign for another two years. The decision was made well before she was actually deployed so John is at least comforted that she isn’t just responding to a current situation. Then he’s wondering how many times has she had to respond to bad shit? How many times did she come that close to not coming home? She’s stateside a few months later and has eight months left as a Technical Sergeant with the United States Air Force and the day she comes home her mom is high. 

Two years fly by, Abby’s treatments are a constant headache and Marcus is beginning to lose hope that the woman he loved is still in there. Clarke is practically a ghost to the person he used to know. He watches how her hands shake when they’re eating in D.C. that one carefree weekend. She doesn’t talk about her tours and he doesn’t ask. She doesn’t talk about her mom and he doesn’t _have_ to ask, because he too knows. When she agrees to his offer he almost drops his phone into the sink where he’s washing his and Emori’s dishes from dinner -they’re not that disgusting domestic couple, shut up. He’s excited though and Emori is excited for him on principle and then she ruins the mood. “This is the same Clarke that Bellamy’s basically loved for forever?” 

“Fuck.” Because John never mentioned who his fighter was, he didn’t think she’d actually accept so he figured at the most she would offer to visit and he could avoid the entire confrontation. “Fuck! I didn’t actually think she’d accept.” 

“Well what did you expect then?” 

He flails his hands in front of him, “Hell if I know! Maybe she’d visit for a long weekend or some shit.” 

“Well, you have to tell her!” Emori leads them to the living room and guides him to sit between her legs, she’s perched on the sofa and he follows easily and grunts as her hands start massaging at his shoulders. “And him for that matter.” 

He doesn’t tell either of them, which in retrospect was an awful idea. She’s been in town for about two months and luckily hasn’t run into anyone, but mostly that’s because she has Jedd’s corner store below her to keep her stocked and she never leaves her apartment. John knows she’s not doing any better than when she was in Maryland, but the day Jedd calls him with her in the background he almost loses his shit. He’s rehearsing his line the entire drive to the corner store with the rear parking lot and he’s up the flight of metal stairs on his fifth repetition. He has to make her see that she needs help, because she does and she can’t be ringside or anywhere near the job he’s offered her -and that the UFC is paying her for, if she isn’t alright. And god damnit, she has to be alright! He’s relatively relieved to have her easy agreeance and he’s happy to drive her to the first meeting with who he hopes will be the saving grace that he needs for this woman that’s next to him. This woman that he’s afraid he doesn’t actually know. In the end she sees Dr. Woods every Thursday at eleven in the morning without fail.

And two months later she seems to be much better. She got a haircut and added a fun pop of color so instead of the long dirty and dull blonde tangles he was used to seeing hang limply below her shoulders he now sees bright blonde curls with little pops of pink bounce just above her shoulders. After her third session with Dr. Woods, Clarke got her nose pierced, a small silver hoop, and since she never directly brought it up to John he didn’t bring it up to her. After her fourth session she admits that she can’t have more than two drinks in a sitting and she’s made him promise that he’ll hold her to it. Some days are still rough and it takes a couple more sessions before she approaches him about getting to the gym. “I mean the first physical check is going to be due soon and I’ve yet to actually see your gym. I probably could have stayed at home and taken the long drive if I knew how much time I’d spend not at the gym.” 

“To be fair, you were supposed to spend way more time there than this, but I figured you earned some down time.” 

“Yes and it felt great, but I am ready to get back into a routine.” And John agrees because she looks thinner than when she first arrived and she shakes it off saying she’s just lounged around and Jedd only gives her healthy food. So he takes her word for it, because really, he’s just happy to see her smiling and laughing again. “I’ve been holed up here for too long, I need to get out.” 

“You should come to the bar tomorrow night, it’s our weekly tradition.” 

She looks nervous for one split second and then she’s nodding and agreeing, “It sounds like fun and I finally get to meet some new people! Not that you and Emori haven’t been fantastic through…” she gestures around her and to herself vaguely, “... this.” 

He’s too excited that she’s extended the idea of her coming out and meeting everyone to realize her self depreciation. He’s also attempting to spin the situation so it works in his favor. Bellamy bartends Thursday and Friday nights at their spot Grounders. Lincoln and Octavia will definitely be there because of the baby. He hopes it doesn’t set her off seeing them, on top of meeting Monty and Jasper, Harper and Maya, Lincoln himself and more than likely Echo -who remains relatively unpleasant whenever Clarke is mentioned, especially if the mention comes from Bellamy. 

He waits until the day of to let everyone know Clarke is joining them, but she’s still just referred to as the team medic. Bellamy exclaims something about it being about time and everyone else seems normal about it. So he patiently waits, she’s walking since she doesn’t have a car and he offered to drive her, but she insisted she needed the time. John can’t figure why his palms are so sweaty, but he keeps glancing at the entrance every time the door opens. Everyone, except Bellamy who’s working, picks up on it and they’re all picking fun at him and teasing Emori. It’s Emori that’s wearing the diamond though, so she could care less and she knows Clarke. And finally the head of blonde is walking in and glancing around trying to find them. 

Emori has to admit, it is nice to see her in something other than leggings and old tee shirts. She looks just as comfortable in the skinny jeans and boots, and the jean jacket over the old tee shirt is fine. Emori holds her breath as Clarke looks around once more and her eyes settle on Bellamy at the bar, but luckily his back is to her and he’s talking to Echo who’s sulking on her normal barstool milking her Mojito. Then Clarke’s pretty blue eyes find their little crowd and she hurriedly makes her way over. Introductions are disorderly and she’s pretty sure Clarke is lost, but John is already walking off for another round of drinks and Emori is pulling Clarke further into the circle. 

“Alright, so let’s review. Jasper and Monty both teach at the high school.” 

Clarke nods, “Right, Jasper teaches AP Chemistry and some kind of math.” Then she points to Monty, “He teaches biology, but he’s also teaching a lot of elective sciences like environmental studies.” 

Jasper high fives her; “You got it! New girl is alright with me!” 

Emori references Harper and Maya next, “Harper is Monty’s girlfriend-” 

“And she was on John’s PR team when he was still winning titles, she came here to do a follow-up interview with him on his transition out of the UFC and met Monty and then bam!” Clarke snaps with pride and Harper laughs and nods her head, “And Maya is an ER nurse and met Jasper when he caused an explosion in class. Jasper and Monty are attached at the hip so it’s safe to assume that their relation to John is an extension of Harper and Monty.” 

“You catch on fast,” Emori hums and looks around the room and then points for Clarke to see, “ok that there? That’s Lincoln, he owns this bar and he’s one of our top members at the gym. He’s usually our go to spar partner, mean left hook and quick on his feet.” 

“But he’s not the guy I’m supposed to be working with?” 

Jasper throws his arms around her shoulders and turns her towards the bar; “Nah, that would be that dude over there! He’s our local hero, even if he has no desire to get big and famous for it. And the chick he’s flirting with is Echo, she’s a fighter from out west that ended up sticking around here for Bell’s dick.” 

“Jasper!” Maya scolds and pulls him away. “Sorry, he has literally no filter when he’s sober let alone drunk.” 

Clarke doesn’t really hear her though, she’s staring at the bartender and he must feel her eyes on her because he’s turned around and is staring at her too. He looks confused, like he’s supposed to know who she is, but doesn’t. She looks crushed, because she knows exactly who he is. She has notebooks filled with notes and letters to him that she never sent, they’re tucked into a small box under her bed. There’s at least two-thousand days worth of notes and letters. She wrote to him everyday for her first six years in the Air Force. She only stopped because she had convinced herself it was absolutely pathetic. Luna disagrees and thinks she should embrace them, but Clarke hasn’t had the stomach to open that tattered box yet. 

She has so many questions but then a beautiful woman is walking out of the kitchen doors attached to behind the bar and she recognizes who she sees across the bar immediately. Both girls feel their eyes widen on their own accord and then Clarke’s eyes flash to Bellamy and he now has the look of recognition. There’s a flash of anger that crosses both of the Blake siblings faces and then there’s something else. Clarke turns around and continues to talk to Maya, she inquires about her time in the ER, but her hands are shaking so she has to cross her arms over her chest. 

She can feel their eyes hitting her back, but she ignores them. Emori looks guilty and suddenly Clarke has the pieces together. Obviously John knew who his fighter was, he just didn’t tell Clarke. And if he had, she probably wouldn’t have made the move to Wickford and then she definitely wouldn’t have met Luna and things have been so much better since meeting her. She can admit that she needs help and she can work through her issues and even though she hasn’t opened up entirely to her psychologist she’s well on her way. She signed a deal and is stuck working until after the event which is still months away and maybe in that time she can figure out her coping mechanisms and get some answers so that when her contract is up she can just flee. 

John reappears and looks sheepish as he passes everyone their drink, he gets Clarke a gin and tonic and she eyes him skeptically. He promises that they can talk later and Clarke chugs and demands another one. He glares and reminds her of their deal and she smiles sweetly; “One more drink and then I’m headed out, it’s a little stuffy in here.” 

Jasper hears and gets personally offended, demands that Clarke spend the rest of the night with them, he even promises to behave, which truthfully has Clarke laughing a little. She eventually gives in and agrees to hangout, but she’s adamant on only having one more drink and when Jasper’s pestering starts to cross the line John is stepping in. Ever thankful for the man that somehow became like her brother Clarke relaxes a little more. The evening ends up being enjoyable and fun, much to her surprise. Octavia doesn’t approach the group and Bellamy is busy working. She’s aware that they -at least her and the eldest of the two siblings will have to work together and that will require conversation, but for one night she can put it off. She makes it until a little after midnight and then Clarke is yawning every couple of minutes. She’s exhausted, which Luna warned her would happen, she’s exiled herself socially for so long that it’ll be exhausting to create bonds and relationships again. So she uses that as an excuse to dip out before the bar slows down enough for Bellamy to make his way over or worse, Octavia. 

The cool air of the late night hits her face and she takes a deep breath. She has to get her breathing under control, because her hands are shaking so badly she knows that if she can’t get her anxiety underwraps she’ll end up in a full blown panic. So she reminds herself of her grounding points; she is safe and she is home, she is safe and she is home and she no longer lives her life in combat, and repeats. She’s on her third time when the door opens up and she’s expecting it to be John so she is startled by the soft feminine hand that grips her upper arm and turns her. But Clarke reacts, because this touch is unfamiliar and unfamiliar is dangerous and dangerous is combat, but then she hears it. She hears her name and she’s back in the front of the bar and the crickets are chirping and she’s safe and she’s home and she no longer lives her life in combat, and she knows the voice calling her name. 

“...Clarke! Clarke, c’mon don’t make me have to go in there and get Murphy, he’ll kill me!” Octavia is afraid to touch the woman in front of her who is trapped in this trance and then her (former) best friend is closing her eyes and breathing steadily in through her nose and out through her mouth. She does this three times before her eyes blink open again and this time there’s recognition there across her pale face. “Oh thank God, I was really not looking forward to Murphy laying into me.” 

Clarke just licks at her lips and takes a step back, she needs distance, she can’t be too close to anyone. She had done that multiple times at the bar as well, she had to discreetly shrug out of Jaspers embrace multiple times throughout the night. And when Harper went in for a hug farewell Clarke had to mentally prepare herself for a solid ten seconds before she responded. She felt like shit when she pulled back and saw the look of hurt flash through Harper’s eyes. It’s not Harper’s fault Clarke is fucked up, it’s Clarke’s fault. And then there’s a snap in front of her and Octavia is looking at her expectantly. 

“You disappeared again.” 

“Oh.” is all Clarke can offer, because what else is there? “Sorry, I do that every now and then it’s kind of my thing.” 

But Octavia doesn’t laugh instead she goes to grip her upper arm and she almost looks skittish and Clarke could swear she’s looking at Octavia from ten years ago, before everything went to utter shit. “I guess it is.” 

And then it’s awkward, “Well, if that’s all I’m going to head home now.” 

Octavia snaps her eyes up at that, “You live here? Since when?” 

Clarke shrugs; “About four months ago? Murphy didn’t tell you guys? I’m supposed to be the medic for Bellamy’s event.” 

“What the fuck?” 

Clarke holds her hands up as a sign of surrender; “If it bothers you I’ll just tell Murphy I can’t. I mean I signed a contract by the UFC for this, but I’m sure I can pull some strings and make it work.” 

“It’s not that, it’s just,” and Octavia now has to take the steadying breath, “do you know what you did to my brother?” 

“I wouldn’t have any idea, he never reached out to me. I was just his kid sister's friend.” 

There’s a humorless laugh that echoes between them as Clarke takes another step backwards. She’s facing Octavia, but mostly because she should never turn her back on an enemy. And she’s angry that she instinctively thinks of Octavia that way. She’s angry at the accusation that was made too, but she knows it's irrational. Every response she has in most situations is irrational. Luna disagrees, but Clarke isn’t so fucked up that she can’t tell when she’s just being dramatic or acting like a brat. “You two were always so clueless.” 

“I really have to go now, it was nice to see you again.” _Even if you hate me now_ , she hears through her head, but she’s smart enough to hold her tongue. The thing between Octavia and Clarke though? It’s that they can understand what isn’t being said and so both women are positive that Clarke’s thought was just as loud as her actual parting phrase. 

“Will I be seeing you around?” 

Clarke shrugs, “Only if you want to.” 

Octavia watches as Clarke finally turns and walks away, but the unknown version of Clarke she’s never met is barely twenty feet away when Octavia is calling out; “I’d like to! If you do, I’d like to maybe talk and catch up.” Clarke throws her hand up in acknowledgement and looks over her shoulder to nod. 

When Octavia walks back in her friends are all staring at her expectantly and her brother, he’s got John pressed against the wall with his forearm against the other's' throat. He drops him though when he sees his sister walk back in, “O?” 

“I knew you were an asshole Murphy, but I never thought you’d pull such low blows.” 

John looks guilty as he slumps against the wall; “I didn’t know how to tell either of you, but we needed a medic and she needed…” John stops and then Bellamy is jerking him around again. 

“She needed what? What could she possibly need Murphy?” 

“She needed help!” John lashes out and throws his fists back against Bellamy. “She needed something to hold on to, she needed a purpose, she needed help! We needed a medic and she needed us, she needs… me.” The pause is enough for everyone to know that’s not what he was going to say. Bellamy doesn’t quite get it, but Octavia does and the fire leaves her eyes and now she just looks tired. 

“I’m tired, I think I’m going to head to bed.” Nobody stops Octavia, she kisses her brother on the cheek and her husband on the lips lightly and then she disappears back behind the kitchen doors. 

The group disperses relatively quickly after that, Emori steps out and tells John she’ll meet him at the car and then it’s just the local patrons, Lincoln, Bellamy and John. Bellamy goes back to the bar to play catch up to the orders he’s missed and left his partner to scramble for. Echo is staring at him and she reaches across the bar to touch him and he jerks away like he’s been burned and she’s startled. Then she notices John sit across from her on the other side of the bar and he and Bellamy are talking. And she’s struck with the sense of deja vu, like she had been in this moment before only the last time there had been a fire to sit around and it was a girl's voice that had gotten Bellamy to react so violently. 

She pays her tab and steps out quietly, she finds Emori sitting on the hood of John’s car and she makes her way over. “You knew it was going to be her, didn’t you?” 

“Yup.” 

Echo nods, “Well fuck, I never stood a chance against that.” 

Emori laughs, not maliciously, she’s just laughing and soon Echo is joining in and the two girls wait together until John walks out an hour later. He’ll have a black eye and his throat actually looks bruised, but otherwise he seems fine. He kisses Emori quickly and asks if Echo needs a ride, she accepts since she’s on the way. Nobody talks the entire drive, but Echo does ask if it’s all going to work out and he seems unfeigned when he tells her that he thinks so. And that’s enough for Echo. 

* * *

The following Tuesday Clarke has agreed to meet both Bellamy and Octavia at the coffee shop near her apartment. She tells them she can meet them anywhere, but Bellamy makes the decision, “Because O, she doesn’t have a car.” and she’s alright with that decision being made for her. She’s kind of tired making decisions, so whenever she can pass them off she will. Something she never would have foreseen from her youth. 

They’re sitting at a table that sits against the window and the morning sun feels heavenly, the coffee is delicious as well. She let Bellamy decide her order, she wasn’t particular, years in the military taught her to drink whatever coffee she could and enjoy all the snacks. The three of them stick with pleasantries for the duration of their breakfast pastries and first round of coffee. When Bellamy returns with their refills the air feels different and after a few minutes of silence he’s clearing his throat and nudging his sister. 

“I believe I owe you an apology.” 

Clarke sips her coffee; “It would be a waste, apologies don’t hold much weight with me anymore.” 

“Well then, how about an explanation?” 

Clarke sets her mug down, “Yeah, an explanation would be good. First though I think I owe you one. I was never specific about my duties with the Air Force, most of my missions were undisclosed and top secret so it wasn’t possible for me to release any information. I never told anyone that, I always just played it off. Because of the mission types that I was assigned to, leave wasn’t something I could take unless I was in the states. Emergency leave was only granted for legitimate next of kin or immediate family. You and everyone else already hated my life in the military and I didn’t want to give you another reason, another valid reason, for it. I just wanted someone back home to be proud of me. I never meant to hurt you or anyone else.” 

Octavia moves to reach across the table and take Clarke’s hand, but by instinct Clarke’s hand is pulled back and then there’s a look of shame that almost breaks the Blake siblings right there. “I was always so proud of you, I bragged about you to everyone I knew.” 

Clarke looks at them a little easier and apologizes. She doesn’t explain too much but she does let them know that she’s working through some things and so sudden movements startle her easily. Both of them across from her understand completely and Bellamy is itching to ask more questions, but he knows it’s not the time or the place. Instead he sips his coffee while he nudges his sister once more to get her started. She was never good at admitting her wrongdoings and this was no exception. 

“I feel so stupid looking back on everything.” She laughs slowly. “Our mom had just passed away and the only person I wanted to comfort me was you. Still, my anger was unjust and I never should have said anything that night. Mom died because she elected to not receive treatment when the cancer came back and even though I knew it was her decision I was so angry. I completely shut down everyone and everything, left it all for Bell to handle and it never even occurred to me that you wouldn’t have any idea.” 

“Not for lack of trying, I didn’t actually have your email and O didn’t have it saved to her phone. Really the whole situation was a mess, but in the end I decided that my priority had to be my sister. My sister, my responsibility.” Bellamy pauses to collect his thoughts and Clarke is watching him with such an intensity that he almost forgets it all right there. “I didn’t realize how big my mistake was until Octavia recapped everything to me.” 

“I refused to listen to him, told him that he can’t keep taking the heat because people are unreliable. I wouldn’t let him explain, I was just so angry and being angry was better than being sad and scared. It never even crossed my mind that there were restrictions to your life, I wasn’t the most considerate friend towards your career.” Clarke can kind of agree and she wants to reply, but Octavia isn’t quite done. “I was stupid and held a grudge because I figured you gave up too… It wasn't until half a year later I realized that _I_ had blocked _you_ on everything. I felt like such a bitch, because even after I realized that I left it as it was.” 

“Octavia you don’t have to feel guilty because we were nasty to each other.” This time it’s Clarke who reaches her hand across the table and her voice is soft and understanding, just like it had always been. “We can’t change anything that happened, because it’s already done.” 

“So what can we do?” 

Clarke shrugs, “I want to say move on and live, but it’s not that simple. We are nothing like the kids we used to know. A lot has changed.” Bellamy looks down at his cup, Clarke ignores it. “If we’re going to become friends then you have to know what you’re getting into.” 

“You mean friends again.” Octavia teases.

“No O, I don’t think this can count as us picking up where we left off.” She’s sad to admit it, but it’s true. “You have a family now! And that’s wonderful and I’m so proud of you and happy for you, but that is something I can’t just jump right into. My last tour was the worst one and it left scars and those scars have changed me, so you have to get to know me as I am now.” 

Bellamy, by this point, had gone to order a third cup for himself. He was trying hard to not eavesdrop, because really he was only there to say his part and that was it. He didn’t need to be involved in any sappy reunion between the girls. He wasn’t quite there yet, there were still nights he woke up with her nervous voice ringing in his ears. Usually though she’s saying that this is it and that she’s dying instead of her insistent reassurance that she was fine. He’s also trying so hard not to notice all the physical changes in her, trying to push the thought of her hand reaching across the table to grip his hand. He’s trying to tell himself that it’s just blind lust because he hasn’t fucked in months. He’s trying not to think about how satisfying it was for him to have her trust him so easily that she let him pick her coffee. 

He’s trying (failing) to ignore his drifting imagination, he wonders what else she’d trust him with and just how far he could go with that? 

* * *

Clarke shows up to the gym late Monday morning as scheduled. She doesn’t know a whole lot about UFC fighting, but she can’t imagine it being too difficult to follow along. John already informed her which weight class Bellamy was eligible for so it was all about maintaining the weight for the duration of even prep. He’ll be competing in the Super Middleweight division. Clarke wishes she could figure out the opponents for the event, but since it’s a local event with no real hype behind it, pairings will be determined the week of. She’s found out that while the UFC is paying participants, the event itself is being used as a PR fundraising event for some major charity. 

She’s looked up and researched some of the basic rules, the layout of the ring and materials used in the canvas. She’s also watched two tutorials on how to properly bandage the contestants hands, the design behind the wrapping is to protect against damaging the knuckles and against impact injuries. She’s perfectly aware that this isn’t Bellamy’s first competition, she remembers them as kids when he was enrolled in karate. He bragged about how he could kick anyone’s ass if they messed with his sister… and at one point Clarke was in that category as well. She gets herself back on point, his long unruly hair and patchy beard will have to be handled before the competition and she’s just a little nervous about that. He’ll look so much more like her Bellamy. 

She’s sitting ringside taking her notes, weak points that she is observing while Bellamy and Lincoln spar. Time durations for this event will be five minutes rounds, one minute rests in between and will total three rounds. She’s memorized all of the disqualifying moves, but only so she can recognize them in the opponent, she doubts Bellamy’s honor system will allow for him to actually throw an illegal hit. In the end though, her position is for liability purposes. She’ll have to take an initial round of vital signs the morning of the event, then during check-in and again just before the fight. Adjusted vital signs will be taken at the immediate end of the fight and at five minute intervals until it’s determined he’s truly in good shape. She’ll of course be on hand for immediate injuries, John told her nothing more than little scrapes and some bruising, there will be emergency medical teams on sight to transport for anything serious. 

She’s not too unfamiliar with mixed martial arts, the guys overseas loved to hold their own competitions. And if the fights were streamable, it was always a big deal in the mess hall. She’s just never really participated or gotten truly into the sport, John’s one title fight doesn’t count. She and Raven had been at a bar stateside watching and Clarke had gotten super into it. In fact, when John was announced victor she grabbed a waitress and smacked a kiss right to her lips. The night ended very well, but Clarke really only remembers the excitement of watching John fight and win. 

She feels someone sit next to her halfway through the second five minute sparring round and looks up to find Emori on the bench looking so incredibly at ease it should be criminal. “So what do you think so far?” 

“About the gym or the participants?” 

“Both I guess,” Emori sniggers, “Bellamy is pretty nice to look at.” 

“I bet John loves that fun fact.” 

“Please, Murphy knows that I’m all his,” and Clarke sniggers back at her, “I’m just saying it makes being surrounded by smelly equipment and people worth it when you get to ogle the good looking ones.” 

Clarke doesn’t agree or disagree. Instead she just rolls her eyes and changes the subject entirely. “So, have you two set a date yet?” 

“We’re thinking next June, we want the time to enjoy being engaged.” 

Clarke looks over and smiles brightly towards the woman that snagged John Murphy, her brother by all sense of the word, “Yeah? I think June would be a great time to get married. Would you get married here?”

“I mean yeah, there’s nowhere else really for us. Neither of us have actual families so almost everyone that would be in attendance we see on a daily basis. Harper thinks it would be a great idea for his UFC story to end with a picturesque wedding scene. He’s obviously never cared about his actual image, but he does care about his ties with the UFC.” 

“I get that, but I’m a little skeptical that you two haven’t already got yourselves hitched at the courthouse.” Clarke snorts at the blush that rises up Emori’s neck. 

The moment is disrupted by Lincoln calling for Clarke’s attention. She excuses herself and walks over to where he and Bellamy are leaning against a set of lockers on the far wall. Lincoln asks all of the right questions and Clarke answers them professionally, but Bellamy can’t look at her. Granted, it’s only been a week since her and Octavia resolved their past issues and it’s been great to get to know the grown-up mother Octavia. The baby is cute as a button and Clarke loves watching how doting both O and Linc are with him. Things aren’t perfect, sometimes O gets frustrated with Clarke because she won’t hold the baby when offered -but her hands are still so shaky at random times she doesn’t want to risk dropping him. She tries to articulate it and fails every time. Lincoln seems to get it though and he’s always ready to diffuse Octavia before it escalates. 

Luna is impressed with all of the work Clarke has put into herself. She’s addressing her problems and her insecurities. She’s not perfect, there’s a lot of other issues that they’ve yet to discuss but Clarke thinks they’re getting somewhere. And despite all of it, the second Bellamy ducks his head down away from her it’s like all the progress doesn’t matter. And she hates how much he means to her, she had moved on years ago, she had! So she hasn’t been able to throw away the notebooks of confessions and feelings and she can’t bring herself to really address all of that just yet. Luna is patient, she reassures Clarke that she’s not the most difficult case she’s ever worked with. It’s kind of reassuring, to know that Clarke isn’t the most fucked up human that Luna has worked with. 

She thinks she’s managed to get lost in her head deep enough to internalize her constant concerns, but she’s getting better at balancing the act so that she’s still present in the moment. “Why do you do that?” 

And then she realizes that it’s just been her and Bellamy standing in awkward silence for an unknown amount of time and the room is literally empty except for them. Instead of telling him the truth, because she’s always been able to dodge what matters, she just plays it off. “Do what?” 

“You zone out, but it’s like you’ve trained yourself to pick up on certain conversation cues so that you’re still participating in what’s going on around you.” Bellamy is grabbing his stuff from his locker with his back turned towards her. “It’s kind of infuriating.” 

“I wish I knew what you were talking about.” 

And then he’s slamming his locker shut and turning around in a flurry of motion, but she doesn’t jump or flinch, because in the back of her head she knows it’s _Bellamy_ and he would never hurt her. He could never be her enemy. “You might be able to con everyone else into playing your game, but you can’t do it with me.” 

And then; “How dare you? You think I’m playing a game? You think you have any idea what’s going on with me? You weren’t there! So don’t you dare stand there and try and tell me that I’m playing with everyone here when you were the one that initiated everything and then disappeared! And just when I think you’re back on one of the biggest days of my life, and then just like always you disappear. You’re an absolute asshole Bellamy.” 

“Well you left! What was I supposed to do? Pine over you until you decided you were done playing American Hero? And look at what it got you!” 

Clarke shakes her head and turns away from him slowly, “You left first, you kissed me and then bolted and I had to move on! So I did and you know what? Everyone else did too, so I just went a little further for a little longer, but you know what it got me? It got me confidence and pride and I had to work really hard at it!” 

“And we were proud of you, we _are_ proud of you Clarke, but you’re a fucking mess! Neither of us are perfect and I understand that my actions were cowardly but you just… you wouldn’t understand.” Bellamy looks wrecked while he’s scrambling to figure out how to articulate what he needs to articulate, if Clarke wasn’t so emotionally invested in what he was about to say she would tease him. He was always so easy to tease. “I couldn’t watch you go. Every single time you left was like playing Russian roulette, would it be the last time we ever saw you? And I think what’s worse is that you’re here, but you’re not _here_.” 

“Well I’m trying! Moving here has been nothing but challenging, you think I’m a fucking mess now? You should have seen me in Arkadia, I spent two years as a ghost in my own home, because even the slightest upset would send my mom on a bender. Nothing I did was enough for her to get better and it just kept reminding me of every single person I lost and I know they aren’t my fault, but it _is_ Bellamy. It’s a lot, to live mission to mission and then to come home and not one friendly face is there anymore, not even in my own mother and we had worked so hard at repairing our relationship.” she’s crouched to the ground with her hands in her hair and she’s not even aware that her grip is so tight her knuckles are white and she’s rambling. 

“Hey, Clarke…” and he’s trying to get on her level and he’s trying to pry her hands away from her hair, “Come on Princess, come back to me, it’s Bellamy and I’m right here.” 

She shakes her head; “But you weren’t! Everything was fine when I could talk to you everyday even if it wasn’t you and it was just a stupid blank piece of paper. And then I stopped and shit got worse and now I’m fucked up.”

“Clarke what are you talking about?” 

She’s starting to calm down a bit, but she’s trembling now and he’s taken the initiative to reposition them. They’re both sitting on the floor with the back against the practice ring, but she’s wrapped up in his arms and between his legs. “You never wrote to me. When I was in basic training you never wrote me and then the weekend of graduation, you didn’t even leave me a phone number which is so stupid, because I should have already had it! You were the only freak that didn’t have a Facebook and fuck if I knew your email address, but you always had access to my mailing address and _you never wrote to me_.” 

He’s shushing her and he’s rocking them because he’ll do anything to keep her from freaking out again. And he feels like such utter shit because he couldn’t just bite his tongue. Murphy had told him everything she had admitted, he already knew how hard of a time she was having and Murphy had made it very clear that he didn’t want Bellamy to fuck up all her progress. “I’m sorry Princess, ok? I made a mistake, I always thought about writing to you, but I was just the creep who went after his kid sister's best friend and you deserve better.” 

“You’re so stupid.” She grumbles into his arms. “I’m so tired Bell…”

He doesn’t think through his actions, he’s just responding at this point. At least that’s what he’s telling himself as he presses his lips to the top of her head and he’s only thinking of comforting her, “I know Clarke, it’s gonna’ be okay now though. I’m not going anywhere and I can take care of you. I’m going to take care of you Princess.” 

Clarke is starting to lose feeling in her ass, but she’s warm and she hasn’t been warm in so long. She must have said some of that out loud, because he lets one hand drift to rub at the top of her butt. All too soon he’s helping her stand up and her legs feel like jell-o, but she’s pretty positive it’s from having them curled up for so long. She’s also amazed that nobody in the gym had bothered them and she says so as he’s walking her out of the gym, but Emori is smirking behind the welcome desk so maybe that was intentional. Bellamy refuses to let Clarke drive, even if her car is at the gym and it would be a serious pain in the ass for her to have to get back to the gym later to pick it up. Still he’s insisting and the warm hand at the base of her back and the steel in his voice when he _tells_ her that he’s driving her home sends a shiver through her. He can feel it and he’s smirking when he asks her if she’s cold. 

* * *

Clarke meets with Luna at their normal time Thursday morning and she’s bouncing her leg in a rapid pattern. She had talked with Raven on the phone, like she’s been doing, and she’s filled her spitfire friend in on everything that’s happened since their last visit. Of course her friend is a little agitated because over the last couple of weeks her weekend visits have been less frequent and all for people that had essentially written her off and made Clarke feel like she doesn’t deserve to live. To which Clarke told Raven she was being a tad dramatic and that she never thought her life was meaningless. In fact Clarke can reassure Raven that all those negative feelings had been a dysfunctional attempt at processing everything that was happening around her. And Raven doesn’t quite buy it. 

So when Luna calls Clarke back and immediately picks up on the anxiety in the young blonde she skips the pleasantries of their normal sessions and comes right out and asks, “So Clarke, what’s wrong?” 

“I think I want to show Bellamy the letters, but Raven doesn’t think I should be talking to him or his sister let alone cluing him in on something so extreme.”

And Luna wasn’t expecting that, because for as long as Clarke has been coming to her she’s yet to fully approach the topic that is the complicated relationship between her and the infamous Blake siblings. Together though, she’s helped Clarke overcome and conquer many things and she’s still helping her to process many others. Luna is confident that if they can work through Clarke’s personal relationships, past and present (or past to present) then she thinks Clarke can finally start to move forward. So naturally, she wants Clarke to show the letters to Bellamy, but Raven’s opinion weighs heavily on Clarke’s mind and sometimes it’s difficult to argue with that. 

Raven Reyes has proven to be one of the best relationships Clarke could have managed and maintained from her time in the service. She’s strong -physically and mentally, and she doesn’t let Clarke retreat in on herself. In fact, during the entirety of Luna’s time knowing Clarke, it’s been Raven that she could rely on as the second voice of reason. Since Luna knows very little about the situation she can’t agree or disagree with Raven’s concerns; all she knows is that Clarke wrote this guy for a reason. 

“Tell me about Bellamy, I know that he was the one the letters were addressed to, but I don’t think we’ve talked about anything leading up to or beyond that.” Luna notices that for a split second Clarke looks unsure, which in the time that the women have worked with each other that uncertainty was only seen once the morning that the first met. 

“Well, O and I became friends almost instantly when we were five and between her, Wells and myself we were pretty inseparable.” Luna encourages her to continue. “Bellamy is five years older than us so he never really hung around us as kids. My father died while O and I were in high school, he was some big shot engineer for the Department of Defense after he served four years in the Air Force. Nothing anyone did could console me or make me feel anything other than dread, until the day of the funeral.” 

“What happened the day of the funeral?” 

“Bellamy kept his hand on my shoulder the whole time, he had to be at least twenty by that point. I just never forgot that feeling, of Bellamy being the one to ground me. For the rest of high school he picked and chose when he’d want to hang around us and at the time he must have been flirting, but I never saw it that way. Finally, three days before I shipped off to boot camp we kissed and then he was just gone. He wasn’t there the day I left and the next time I saw him was graduation, but it was so brief and he was so distant for most of it. And that’s pretty much it.” 

“And he was the one you really wanted to write to and connect with while you were going through basic, going through all of your training and eventually your tours in the Middle East.” Clarke nods because it’s true, she’s never really spoken the words aloud, but they’re true. “Why did you stop writing to him?” 

“His mom died right before my third tour, I was already in processing in Germany and unless they were next of kin or immediate relatives I never would have been able to swing getting back to Arkadia. Let alone the fact I didn’t know she had died until after the fact, but O saw that as an unforgivable slight.” She likes to pick at the loose strands of the pillow that she holds during the sessions, it keeps her distracted enough to work through the conversation. “After that it didn’t feel right to keep writing to him, even if it was in secret.” 

“Does Raven know any of this?” 

Clarke shook her head, “At the time it was nice to have something of my own, Raven and I were sharing so much and relying on each other so heavily. She knew I wrote him or that he was the intended receiver to whatever I wrote that day. She was there the night that O basically ripped me a new one and ever since she’s been skeptical.” 

“Alright, well you know you have to give Raven the big picture. If her unease with the letters makes you uneasy then give some insight. I think it’s a good idea that you share those moments with him, it’ll be like a chapter ending and will allow you to focus on the upcoming chapters.” 

“What if it ruins the friendship that we’re working on now?” She wants to say relationship, but Bellamy has given no such hint that he’s interested in her romantically or sexually. And while that bums her out she definitely can’t say that she doesn’t understand. 

“Somehow I don’t think you have to worry about that, but let me ask you this, what do you want out of this new friendship or relationship?” 

After a few moments of silence Clarke finally responds. “He said he wanted to take care of me. I want that to be taken care of.” 

Luna smirks a little, “Well we all have things that do it for us, it sounds like that may just be yours.” 

Clarke flushes and sputters; “I don’t even know what that means? What? Don’t be gross.” 

“It’s perfectly normal Clarke, some people tend to be more submissive than others. Other people are a little more domineering or controlling.” 

“I’m not in to be tied up and whipped, thank you.” 

Luna blinks, “Well no of course not, Jesus how much shitty porn have you watched? Kinks are just things that work for you that may not work for everyone else. No need to panic, unless you and Bellamy have expressed an interest into entering a relationship further than where you’re at now all my teasing is just food for thought. So I’ll see you next week?” 

* * *

They’re about a month out from the big event. Clarke finds herself at the gym more often than not, even when Raven finally arrived and dumped herself onto the lumpy couch from Facebook market. It had been a total surprise, while the group had kept up their tradition of Friday nights at the bar Raven had conspired with Emori and John. A little after nine p.m. the Friday following a more tiresome session with Luna, Raven came sauntering in. Granted her limp was prevalent and the heavy brace that stabilized her left leg was hard to miss, but all Clarke could see was her friend walking on her own. 

“Reyes, what are you doing here?” 

Raven held her arms out for Clarke to run into and the two girls gushed. John looked rather proud of himself when he walked over and patted Raven on the back; “Glad you could join us Raven, did you have an easy drive?” 

Raven laughed, “Emori wouldn’t let me touch the radio once and there’s weird rattling under the hood that I really want to look at.” 

Clarke looks at John with her mouth hanging open, but then everyone else is rushing over. It’s only been a couple of months, but she’s managed to slip right into her place within the group. In return they became integral to her existence. They helped her in ways that they could never understand, but now that Raven was there? It felt perfect! So everyone is introducing themselves, Jasper is ordering another round of drinks and Maya is trying to get him to slow down. Octavia hangs back only for a moment, because once Raven turns to face her it’s like a moment of recognition. “So you’re the angry voice on the phone.” 

And Octavia’s mouth drops open and a blush races up from her neck, but she doesn’t deny it instead she nods and extends her hand. “Octavia Blake.” 

“Raven Reyes,” she shakes back and then she smiles that typical Raven smile, “I’ve been informed that I don’t really know you and therefore can’t judge you too harshly.”

Clarke is rubbing her hands down her face; “For fuck’s sake Raven, what are you my bodyguard?” 

And then Bellamy has his arm around Clarke’s shoulders and he’s asking who the little Latina is and Raven looks like she wants to cackle. “No, but even if I were interested it looks like the job is taken. Hey what’s a disabled vet gotta’ do to get a drink around here?” 

Clarke groans, for the most part the group chuckles a little unsure how to respond to the openness of Raven and her condition. Soon enough though she’s got them all wrapped around her finger. She’s making them laugh with embarrassing stories about Clarke from tour and time in Nevada. She answers all of their questions and Jasper is floored. “I had no idea! How could I have no idea how utterly badass Clarke is?” 

Bellamy hits him upside the head as he walks by; “Because it’s none of your business.” 

“It’s fine Bell,” she’s sipping on an apple juice (Lincoln also keeps it stocked for her), “I just don’t really like to talk about it. Raven on the other hand can answer all of your questions.” 

“Ah there she is the ying to my yang, you balance me out Griffin.” 

By the end of the night everyone knows a little more about Clarke than she’d prefer, but she’s no longer worried about that. It felt nice to be able to talk about it with Raven there and to answer their questions and it was kind of heartwarming when Jasper, poor drunken Jasper, shook both of their hands and thanked them for their service. Their little family felt more complete with Raven there, she was still skeptical of the Blake siblings. She cornered Octavia and the two had it out at the bar while Lincoln inventoried before business hours. She interrogated Bellamy ruthlessly at the gym while he was sparring, he took two hits from Lincoln during the spar because of it. 

A week later she flopped on the lump couch with a bagel smothered in peanut butter while Clarke got ready for the day, “I retract my original thought on the Blake shitshows.” 

“They’re not shitshows Raven.” 

“Regardless, I changed my mind. Octavia clearly has a guilt complex and processes it with anger, but once you call her out on her shit she’s pretty much a big baby. Bellamy has heart eyes so big for you it makes me gag, but the boy is dumb. My only complaint is that both of them walk on eggshells around you, like the slightest move or sound will set you off.” 

“Because it did for a while, you know that.” Clarke appeared from the single bedroom. In the two weeks that Raven had stormed into Wickford she had managed to pick up some hours at the garage in town and the owner just conveniently had the upstairs renovated into a studio apartment. Of all the luck in the world, Rave Reyes continued to receive it. “I still won’t hold the baby.” 

“Shaky hands don't equate to dropping a child. You’re just as dumb as he is.” 

Clarke shrugs as she slides her shoes on, “Maybe, but it feels too personal to do that. Like too permanent I guess.” 

And Raven blinks at that, because there’s something in the statement itself that makes her think. “You’re afraid this is all temporary, aren’t you?” 

“Well at some point I’m going to have to help Marcus take care of my mom and I only signed for a year for this place. Besides the whole reason I was asked to come here was for Bell’s fight and that’ll be done and over with next month.” 

“Couldn’t you use the GI Bill to get some permanent housing? That would give you time to find another job. I’m sure the ER could use you, maybe talk to Maya?” 

Clarke shook her head; “No, I don’t think I want to stay in the medical field. I still have most of my trust fund from my dad, but I wanted to save that for something bigger-” 

“Like your wedding to Bellamy.” 

Clarke rolls her eyes and starts to gather her things; “Like, maybe my Masters or something or as an emergency fund. The GI Bill I’ve already put towards my Bachelors, not that it was a waste, but I’m obviously not looking to become a teacher anytime soon.” 

“I just don’t think you should be rushing to get out of here, I mean even I have to admit this scenic little town has me hooked.” Raven shoves another piece of the bagel into her mouth and Clarke doesn’t warrant her statement with a response instead she just announces that she’s leaving and heads out the door. 

The gym becomes a place of comfort, while Bellamy is watching recorded fights from some of the listed opponents that are participating Clarke is utilizing equipment to get her own workout in. Overall she’s pleased to know that her physical strength hasn’t truly suffered from her separation with the military. She’s still able to run her miles, complete her push-ups and sit-ups and can still get a couple good pull-ups in. Not bad for being on the cusp of thirty years old. When she finishes up she makes her back to the practice ring to get some more paperwork done. She wants to get some test rounds in, from the beginning of the process to the end so that she knows what’s normal and abnormal for Bellamy. 

By the time lunch is over Linc is headed to the bar to get ready for the dinner crowd and Bellamy is getting ready to head back to his place. Clarke helps clean and sanitize the equipment and then starts to make her way to the front desk. They’re reviewing the schedule for the week of training leading up to the event. “Hey don’t forget I meet with Luna on Thursdays so I can’t swing morning practices.” 

Emori nods, “That’s rough, we’re spending the whole weekend in New Jersey. We were hoping to leave Friday afternoon, but if you’re not in for a practice on Thursday maybe we should add in one on Friday.” 

“I can always check with her this week and see if she’s free at any other time.” 

Bellamy looks uncomfortable, like he swallowed vinegar or something. Before Clarke can ask him what’s wrong he’s already lashing out, “Yeah maybe your girlfriend can make an exception.” 

“My what?” Clarke looks at him as if he has two heads. “Luna isn’t my girlfriend.” 

“Oh she isn’t? Then what is she Clarke?” And she knows it’s a challenge that he is presenting. He wants her to get flustered and embarrassed, as if he figured out some major secret. “Because Raven told me how you met her when you first moved up this way and how good things have been since meeting her.” 

“Of course this is the result of Raven, why are you even listening to her?” 

“Why are you avoiding the question?” 

And John and Emori lean on the desk and watch them go back and forth, until John finally clears his throat; “I am hungry, Emori are you hungry?” 

And Emori -god bless, picks up on the hint right away. “Yes, you know what. I am indeed very hungry. So I think we should go get some lunch, while these two…” she gestures between the blonde woman and freckled face man wildly, “do whatever it is they’re going to do.” 

Clarke snorts and gathers her belongings up, “I’m headed out too, call me when you’re done being an ass.” 

But Bellamy follows her out and down to the parking lot. She opted to walk to the gym instead of drive, it’s such a nice day and she doesn’t want to waste the sunshine. Soon though Bellamy is guiding her to his truck; “I don’t understand why you can’t just drive around town.” 

“I don’t know why you keep insisting on driving me around town.” 

And then they’re back to bickering. And yes, some of his insults hurt her feelings and sure she may take a moment to respond, but he just can’t stop his mouth from flying off the handle. He’s so incredibly jealous about this Luna woman that he doesn’t even notice how much Clarke has scooted away from him. She’s practically hugging the passenger door handle and is ready to bolt. Then of course he says something especially stupid and her tempr flares, and God is she sexy when she’s acting like a brat. By this point Bellamy is mad because he’s jealous (and he knows why he’s jealous, he just can’t bring himself to outwardly admit it), he’s annoyed (because Clarke still won’t open up to him about much of anything, she hasn’t mentioned the day in the gym either and it eats at him) and because he’s turned on (and he’s disgusted because she’s bouncing back and forth between challenging and cowering and he shouldn’t find either of those as sexy as he does). 

When he finally pulls into the small lot behind the corner market her face is flushed and her eyes are piercing, but her hands are still gripping the door handle like she can’t wait to bolt and run from him. That’s the last thing he wants from her, for her to bolt. It’s not just because she’s supposed to be their team medic for this charity fight he got himself roped into, but because she’s never actually ran from him. He’s beginning to simmer down and apologize but she’s already out of his truck and halfway up the flight of stairs to her small apartment; “Hey! We weren’t finished yet!” 

She left her door open so he assumes he’s allowed to enter, but he still has to pause at the threshold because she hasn’t actually invited him in yet. And he doesn’t mean in the present moment, she hasn’t invited anyone into her place yet -except Murphy, Emori and Raven, which alright he understands. He pouts like a child whenever it happens, but he understands. So he stands there waiting for her to come back, but when she doesn’t reappear for a few minutes he takes that first step in and closes the door. He can hear her shuffling in her bedroom; he’s kind of too busy looking around her living space though. Her living space is bright and open with a beige lumpy couch against the one wall, a small entertainment center against the other and a mismatching coffee table that’s spotless in between. She has one tall lamp in the far corner of the room. No pictures or art pieces, nothing permanent that makes this space scream Clarke Griffin. 

He turns to see her kitchen is tidy and well kept, there’s a bowl in the sink and a chart that’s on her fridge hung by a cheap bottle opener magnet from Vegas and a photo frame magnet that still has the store photo in it. She has some fresh fruit on her countertop and a small square table with two chairs. Everything is so tidy, but he can remember Clarke when she was younger and less organized. He hears her grunting from her bedroom and he snaps out of his trance and makes his way over, she’s on the ground ripping through an old tattered box. Her bedroom is almost just as bare as her living area, except her bedspread is black which makes the white walls seem pristine and she has some photos on her dresser and bedside table. He recognizes her dad's old sweatshirt on her bed immediately and can see that most of her photos are of her in uniform with people he’s never met -save for Raven. 

“Here, these are yours.” 

And he’s looking at her as she hands him at least a dozen notebooks. The old composition notebooks that he could remember using in Chem because you could get them with graphing paper. “What are they?” 

She rifles through the box some more and he’s curious as to what she’s looking at, but not curious enough to intrude on her thoughts. Finally after minutes of her just sitting there digging through this box she looks up at him, “I told you I wrote to you and I did, those notebooks have a letter from every single day that I was enlisted for the first six years of my Air Force career.” 

He’s almost afraid to ask, “And the other two years?” 

“I coped with alcohol and one night stands.” She picks at a loose thread on her black bedspread. “You don’t have to read them now, but they’re yours. I’ve been holding on to them like they’re some kind of crutch, but Luna is right, you deserve to know the full story.” 

He tries not to get angry at the mention of Luna, but the curiosity eats at him. “What’s the full story Clarke?” 

“I have PTSD and it’s not so bad that I can’t live my life normally, but it’s bad enough that I don’t know how to handle it. It’s hard to say when it developed, lots of veterans and active military personnel can function completely normally with acute triggers, like fireworks or movies. Others have a harder time, like it’s a constant ticking in their head or a twitch or completely unpredictable.” 

“At risk of sounding like a dick, I kind of already knew you had PTSD. I mean, the signs were pretty, you know…”

“Obvious?” Clarke sent him a small smile and patted the spot next to her. “I denied it for a long time, because there was always someone that needed me. My patients, my crew, my mother, Marcus; so I attached myself to this notion that I have to take care of everyone else, it was my coping mechanism. It was a shitty one, but it worked for a while and then when it didn’t work I met Dr. Woods,” she pauses and looks at him with that same bratty look she flitted between on the ride from the gym, “Dr. Luna Woods.” 

He snorts and throws his head back against the wall. “Of course she’s your doctor.” 

“She’s my psychologist, not my doctor, but more than that she’s my friend. And she was right, I should have given you those notebooks after my breakdown at the gym, could have saved us a whole afternoon of fighting.” 

“Well I definitely shouldn’t have lashed out.” 

She smirks, “Honestly? It was kind of nice, for the first time it felt like you were done walking on eggshells around me. And at risk of sounding a little forward, you’re hot when you’re jealous.” 

“Really, that’s what gets you going?” 

Clarke shrugs and then makes the move to push up and off the ground. She extends her hand down to him to help him up, “I think most women find protective jealousy to be attractive,” she pulls and he moves forward and up and into her personal space. “...makes them feel cherished or something.” 

His nose brushes hers, “Princess if you want to feel cherished, I can show you cherished.” 

“And if I told you I don’t know what I want to feel?” 

He wants to say that he’s not sure himself, that they’ve been dancing around each other for over a decade, that maybe one of them should make a move. And then he feels the corner of the one notebook dig into his forearm. There’s a settling feeling of guilt that comes with the weight of these messages and a wave of uncertainty. So instead of saying what he wants or doing what he wants, he takes the moment to consider what she needs. She needs to feel wanted, but not because she’s the caregiver. It’s the opposite really, she needs to feel cared for. She needs a supporter, but not one that will dote on her like she’s a child, but someone she can rely on when things get bad, someone that can pull her out of her own head. She needs to feel like she’s a permanent fixture in life, she’s spent years bouncing between the states and bases in the Middle East. She comes home and nothing is as she left it, not her mother or her house, the neighborhood or herself. 

“Bell?” His free hand is along the base of her jaw, just high enough on her neck for him to feel her pulse and their foreheads are touching, or they were until she pulled away just enough to look into his eyes. “Are you going to kiss me?” 

His thumb is swiping lightly at her cheekbone, “No baby, not today.” 

She looks only a little disgruntled, a little sad, but she nods in understanding. He sees the wheels turning in her head and he can’t offer a verbal explanation for what he’s trying to convey so instead he just pulls her head closer to his body and kisses her forehead. “I want to figure out what’s going on in your pretty little head first, okay? We aren’t going to rush into anything, we’ve got years of shit to work through, but we’ll work it out together alright?” 

“Yeah, okay.” 

“And you’re going to start letting me take care of you. I know you don’t want it, but you need it and you’re not accepting it from anyone else.” She’s pulling back to fight but he’s not hearing it. “I’m not saying dump all your problems on to me and let me deal with them, I’m saying I want you to rely on me to help you through them.” 

She nods and he presses another quick kiss to her forehead before she moves to extricate herself from his arms. He checks the time on his phone and sighs, it’s time for him to get ready for his shift at the bar. She offers to walk him out, if only because it’s getting to be her dinner time and she still has to prepare the meal. He accepts her hospitality on walking him out, but he doesn’t want the afternoon to just end. There’s something changing between the two of them and he wants to explore it, he also wants to make sure she’s actually eating. He’s a worrier. 

“Why don’t you come down to the bar tonight for dinner?” 

Out of habit she wants to argue and protest, because there is a thrill to arguing with Bellamy, but instead she settles for an easy agreement. “I suppose that wouldn’t be awful, I do enjoy Lincoln’s cooking. And Bell, just so you know, you’ve always taken care of me.” 

“Oh well, then this will be an easy arrangement.” He smiles fondly as he makes his way through the door. He’s got one hand on the nob as he’s walking through ready to pull it shut behind him when he shouts over his shoulder that he’ll see her later. There’s a satisfying twitch in his lower belly at her easy agreement. She trusts him enough to take his suggestion to heart. She trusts him enough to hold on to these messages that have meaning to them. He wants to sit down and read them all. There’s a thrill to knowing that every word he now holds on to was meant for him. There’s a twinge of guilt, that he won’t get the opportunity to respond to these letters and passages. That he wasted the opportunity to show her how important she was to him. His early and mid-twenties were years of fear and uncertainty. He tried to stay level headed and rational, but not knowing where she was or what she was doing unsettled him. 

It’s a shame that it was his own damn fault, that he can’t take it back. And then his mom died and it was like the world was crashing in on him. His best friend Nathan Miller became a permanent resident of the Blake household in the immediate aftermath of Aurora Blake’s death. He helped Bellamy prepare everything, he helped him sort through the medical bills and the thank you cards. Nate reached out to their family friends and he had asked if there was anyone they missed and at the time Bellamy was trying to place his anger elsewhere. While he tried to console Octavia he himself had been unable to work through the bitterness of his mother's death. In the back of his mind he knew they should have gotten in contact with Clarke, he knew what would happen if they didn’t and he let it happen. 

Then life just derailed! Octavia eventually found out that it was a deliberate call on his end to leave Clarke out of the loop and instead of handling her guilt for attacking her best friend, she shut Bellamy out. For a good year or so she refused to talk to him and when she finally did it was to tell him how much of a dick he was. And he never once argued with her, it was a dick move, but he liked to remind Octavia that she knew the truth and still didn’t make the move to fix it herself. Her concern however, had been on fixing things with him, and it wasn’t like Clarke was trying anymore than she had. Now her anger wasn’t so palpable or violent, but it was still planted deep within her. 

Eventually though life has to move on and it did, but for Bellamy it moved in a direction of flings and alcohol and fights. Lots and lots of fights. It was just easier that way, he kept his cool around Octavia and he could physically remove the guilt from his mind as he took a hit to the face. And Nate had stood by for a few months, but then shit was getting out of hand and Bellamy was skipping out on work, on his dream job at a university that had a reputation to uphold. The night that Bellamy’s employment was terminated Nate found him at their local bar nursing a bottle of beer and watching the fight. After ordering his own drink Nate watched the screen as well, “I think I know that guy.” 

Bellamy snorted; “If you do it’s an incredibly small world.” 

“No really, I think he used to train at the same gym where the academy sent us for our hand to hand training. He was a mean son of a bitch with a bad attitude, but the dude could fight.” Nate took a sip from his beer. “We called him Murphy but his first name is Joe or Josh or something.” 

“John, he’s a good man.” 

Nate raised an eyebrow, “Yeah? And how would you know?” 

“His adoptive family is Clarke’s step family. Met him the weekend of her graduation in Texas, he looked so out of place with the rest of us and I almost felt bad for him. Now that I can see he’s made it big, I feel less bad.” The bartender places a plate of nachos in front of them and Bellamy makes the first move. 

“I haven’t heard that name in forever, how is Clarke?” 

Bellamy shrugged; “Don’t know, she’s off living her best life.” 

“If you don’t know, how can you be sure it’s her best life?” Bellamy glared over at his friend, there wasn’t any real heat behind his gaze. “Look, I didn’t come here to talk about your old flames and missed opportunities.” 

“She wasn’t a flame.” 

“Yeah, yeah, sister's best friend, I heard the story literally a hundred times before.” Miller points up at the screen, “I think you need to channel your anger and misfortune and put it into something productive.” 

“Enlighten me Miller.” Bellamy faces his friend with his full attention, alright with most of his attention, but it’s not his fault that his friend showed up when he was four beers deep already. 

“Instead of seeking out random brawls against drunk assholes, maybe you can put your martial arts skills to use in a gym. Irony is that the fight is on while we talk about this, but truthfully I had been talking with my dad and he knows a reputable gym that would properly train you to get in the ring. It’s like an open spar practice ring and it’s local, we could swing you a free membership for a while until you figure out what’s next.” 

“I’m not sure why you think I need help. I don’t even get into that many fights.” 

Nate rolled his eyes, “Well the last one bruised two of your ribs and almost broke your nose. So the quantity may be low but the quality of them is pretty brutal. Just think about it man! You can get all your energy out, you can finally lose that chip on your shoulder and you’ll be safe about it. Your sister won’t be calling me on a random Wednesday night worried because you went off the grid only to get the shit beat out of you.” 

So Bellamy agrees, it takes about two weeks of sitting around his apartment and doing nothing. Two weeks of the reminder that he’s lost his job and really has nothing going for him in that moment. So he has nothing to lose! And he ends up really enjoying it, he’s in his late twenties so it takes some time to adapt to the setup, but once he’s got it down that’s it. Bellamy fights like he does everything else, wholeheartedly and with passion. There are trainers that come in and out, bigshots and little guys and at least once a week or so Bellamy is being offered a spot on a local team. He’s not interested, until John Murphy walks the door and slaps his hand on Bellamy’s back. 

“Fancy running into you here Blake, I thought you were off teaching Greek mythology to a bunch of stuck up nerds?” 

“Plans changed, you know how it goes.” 

And Murphy shrugs with an easy agreement, he follows it up with a polite bail out so he can go talk to the owner. Some of the younger guys are staring at Bellamy like he’s a prophet, “How do you know Murphy?” And Bellamy doesn’t really feel like explaining it, so he just tells them the simplified version. They’re friends, lost touch a few years back and by happenstance they’re in the same place at the same time. And then he’s reminding the younger guys of their duties, because you can’t get in the ring and not clean up after yourself. That’s the rules. 

“Blake!” 

“Yes Sir?” The owner of the gym is an old family friend to the Millers so he does his best to respect him, but sometimes the guy can be a real pain in the ass. 

“I want you in the ring in ten minutes!” 

“Yeah, you got it.” And he knows he’s about to be propositioned again. This is how it goes, some trainer comes in because his young guy got his ass kicked by an older guy and now they want to see and then they’ll make him an offer. He’ll thank them for the consideration, but he’ll refuse like he always does. This time as he preps in his corner he notices it’s not one of the local guys that’s pairing off against him. Instead it’s a rather built man around his age. 

Murphy is leaning against the ropes with a smirk on his face and Bellamy would love to wipe it off. Instead he has to focus on this new opponent who looks impassive to everything going on around him. Chuckie, one of the local guys brings both fighters to the center of the ring and reviews the rules. “We want a nice clean fight, alright back to your corners. On my mark,” he raises his arm and drops it, “go!” 

And the first round is a lot of footwork, moving around to feel out the opponent. It’s not just Bellamy, but this new guy as well. He bounces on the balls of his feet and moves around the ring with ease, Bellamy can appreciate that, but he knows the tactic is to try and circle around him to get the upper hand. So naturally Bellamy suddenly goes the opposite direction that he had been moving, they started clockwise bouncing around each other with their fists up ready to block, but now Bellamy is on the offense. But this new guy is good and Bellamy can only get one or two hits in before he has to bounce back out of reach from taking a hit to the sternum. The first round goes on just like that, a few jabs here and there, no fancy kick moves just yet, but testing the boundaries. The first break between rounds Bellamy hears Murphy offer his advice to the guy who remains nameless. 

The second round is a lot more aggressive. Not in the sense that Bellamy had prepared for, he had thought for sure this guy was going to lead off in a quick defense followed by a hard offensive power move. The change in fighting style throws Bellamy and soon he’s wrapped in a typical wrestling hold on the canvas of the ring. It’s a simple enough move and Bellamy is pretty quick to release it, but he isn’t familiar enough with it to return the favor. So for the second round Bellamy dodges all contact with his opponent until the last minute when he knows he won’t be able to get out of the grab so instead he throws a kick. It hits his mark, but it doesn’t stop him from taking the pin. The second intermission is called and Bellamy is aggravated, but now he thinks he can figure out what Murphy is communicating. This new guy is clearly one of Murphy’s guys and maybe he’s testing him to see how he does. That doesn’t explain why they’d want to pit him against Bellamy, other than they’re about the same size and he’d estimate the same age. 

The third round starts and this time Bellamy takes the advance. If he can make the first move he can dominate which fighting style they’re going to work with. Bellamy studied karate as a kid and always loved martial arts. He loved the variations and styles and he loved how they all came from the being of the fighter. And so it makes him incredibly excited to see that his opponent is shocked at the move he just blocked, but Bellamy can throw combinations of different jiu jitsu moves much faster than he can boxing. And since this is the final round and Bellamy has held up relatively well this whole time, he’s not about to let up on this new guy. When the final bell rings both fighters return to their corners respectively and they’re swarmed by the onlookers. Alright, swarmed is a bit of an exaggeration, but anyone that was ringside is now in their personal space and Bellamy can see this guy is about as comfortable with it as he is. 

Then with the swagger of the Chesire cat Murphy comes walking up to him and claps him on the shoulder. “Gotta say Blake, I heard your name pop up from some other local trainers and I thought they were just joking. I’m impressed!” 

“Thanks, but I’m not interested.” 

“Hey buddy, I haven’t even made an offer yet!” Murphy laughs as Bellamy begins to clean up his corner, “Ok look, it’s nothing big and I’m sure you’ve gotten better if you’ve put on that good of a fight for other opportunists but at least hear me out.” 

Bellamy flips him off as he walks to the showers, “Not interested Murphy!” 

Except John Murphy doesn’t give up and he’s persistent and his offer makes sense. Not that Bellamy is truly considering it, he’s not, but the opportunity of starting fresh in a new area and making some decent money while he sorts out his life? That is appealing and so after about a month of Murphy pushing and pestering Bellamy concedes to thinking about it. And like most major life decisions he decides to consult his sister, whose opinion matters the most and is usually the hardest to convince. 

“I’m just saying, it sounds a little suspicious that John Murphy tracked you down at this nobody gym because he heard you had some good spars.” She sounds like she’s making dinner in the background, the clattering of dishes and the sizzle of whatever it is she’s cooking. “Besides that, do you even want to be a professional fighter? Isn’t that a bit extreme?” 

“Well I wouldn’t be going pro, it’s a minor league sponsorship. Murphy needs a front man for his team in divisional competitions on a local and regional level, if I want to go pro I’d have to be approached by a representative from the UFC.” 

“I don’t know Bell, isn't the majority of the money coming from bets and shit? Is that even legal?” 

“Well yeah, that’s a part of it, but it’s completely legal O.” He can hear her shuffling around and the clank of glass. He should feel bad that he’s disrupting her meal, but he promised Murphy he’d have a final decision by tomorrow morning. “Look at it this way; it gives me time to settle somewhere new and I can take my time finding a new full time job.” 

“Which you wouldn’t have lost in the first place had you not got involved in fights.” She must be chewing on her meal because a lot of her words are jumbled and muffled. “It’s a little ironic if you ask me.” 

Bellamy starts to prepare his own dinner and can’t help but roll his eyes. “Yeah the irony isn’t missed on me either, but O me working at the gym isn’t going to cut it. And there’s really not a whole lot around here that my education can be put to good use for.” 

“I told you, you should have moved to Philadelphia with me. This city is swarming with history.” 

“Yeah and assholes.” 

“You’re an asshole, you’d fit right in.” 

“O, please be serious, this is kind of a big decision.” 

And he can hear mumbling about and weighing the pros and cons outloud, which was exactly why he called her. It’s why he’ll always call her, because his sister can pick apart most situations and analyze them. And after a few minutes his microwave is beeping and thus alerting him that his meal is complete and he can hear her judging him from the other end of the phone. Finally, after a few minutes she’s speaking directly to him once more. “Yeah, alright. If this is something you really want to do then fine I give my blessing. I’m still skeptical of Murphy though.” 

“Well of course, it’s Murphy, but I really think this could be a good thing. Thanks O, love you.” 

“Yeah, yeah big brother. I love you too, let me know how it goes!” 

The next morning he’s shaking Murphy’s hand and planning a move to this little tourist town in Rhode Island. And honestly, from that moment on, his life had truly felt under his control again. He had saved up enough from his teaching that he was able to get into a townhouse just off the coast. Every time he stepped outside he felt like he was in some kind of movie scene. Murphy’s gym was the only one within an hour of each direction that was set up to offer sparring in an actual ring. It was a frequent spot for a lot of upcoming names and much to Bellamy’s surprise a lot of current UFC names. Bellamy had always figured most of these big names would reside in California or Las Vegas; he never imagined that Rhode Island or New Jersey had been top states for the sport. And then his first event had been held in Trenton, New Jersey and his second one had been in New York City and his third in Miami, Florida. He never took events further west than Chicago and he never took events that drew in a huge crowd. Granted he could estimate a thousand or so patrons, but he never wanted to be in an arena filled to the brim. 

Bellamy Blake held his own pretty well against his opponents, even had competitors that _wanted_ the chance to fight him. And Murphy swore he could make it big, but it just wasn’t something Bellamy wanted, not like Murphy did or like Roan (his very first opponent in a semi-pro setting). He wasn’t in it for the fame and he wasn’t trying to make fighting something he relied on for a living. He actually enjoyed the bustle of a small town, he liked picking up shifts at the bar Grounders -owned by Lincoln who had been his sparring partner, until he hooked up with Octavia. Which, okay, wasn’t entirely true, but that’s how it appeared to Bellamy for the first six months of their relationship, of their _hidden_ relationship. 

“Bell please! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Lincoln.” 

“Oh well if you’re sorry, then it’s fine.” His sarcasm was heavy while he cleaned up his living room. Not that his living room needed to be cleaned, but he was just so agitated that he had to do something. He had caught Lincoln and his sister making out with her ass on the bartop and of course, overreacted. And then Octavia was yelling at him, calling him a pig and smacking then she was getting between the two men smacking Bellamy’s chest. He didn’t stick around long enough to hear any excuses or reasoning and he didn’t show up for his shift that night. 

“Well you’ve proven my point on how _not_ well you take these things.” 

“Well you’ve proven _my_ point that if you have to hide something, it’s probably wrong! O he’s way too old for you.” 

Octavia scoffs, “He’s literally two years older than you, relax Grandpa.” 

“I don’t like it and I don’t like that you had to lie about it, what does that tell you?” 

“It doesn’t tell me anything! Linc and I wanted to keep this a secret and yes we shouldn’t have, not with you, but we didn’t want to be that couple that does great in the beginning and then fails.” 

“So start your relationship with a lie, that’s great, really selling it here.” He throws one of the decorative pillows that Echo (his _not_ secret girlfriend) had insisted he put on the wrap around sofa. “You know, when you met Echo she wasn’t my girlfriend yet. Do you know why?” 

“Because she shouldn’t be your girlfriend at all?” Octavia mutters under her breath with a roll of her eyes. 

“Real mature of you O, no it’s because I didn’t want to take that step until she had met you! You’re the most important person to me and I didn’t want to bring someone into our life that you wouldn’t like.” 

“Since when do I like her Bell? She’s rude and insensitive and she seems to think that you’re some kind of puppy that’s excited to follow her around. Plus she’s a washed up MMA fighter that never made it big because she couldn’t cut it in big fights.” 

“Wrong, she has a title with the UFC and then she got in a nasty car accident and she can’t fight anymore. Which you’d know if you took the chance to get to know her! And my relationship is not the issue here, we’re discussing yours.” As he starts to reorganize his shoes that rest in the cubby in the small entryway to his house. “When were you planning on telling me?” 

“I don’t know Bellamy! When we were positive you weren’t going to hit him? Which, obviously was not today.” She throws herself dramatically onto the sofa that he had just straightened up. “You know I’m not a kid anymore and it’s not your job to take care of me anymore.” 

“You’re my sister, you’re my responsibility and that’s not going to change just because you’re an adult.” He gives up on his anger cleaning and makes his way to the opposite end of the sofa. “You know, maybe there’s an easier solution here.” 

“Wouldn’t that be something?” 

He throws a pillow at her head and then laughs when it hits its mark. “I’m being serious O, maybe we both can try a little better. I can get to know Lincoln as your boy…” he coughs awkwardly, “...boyfriend, and maybe you can get to know Echo a little better?” 

“If she pats me on the head one more time or calls me sweetie in that demeaning tone I’m snapping.” He doesn’t disagree and then she shoves her pinky out to him. “Do it Bell, link your pinky and we have a deal.” And really, he could never say no to his sister. Especially when he watched her eyes light up when he mentioned accepting her relationship. However, he does not anticipate her announcement of moving in with Lincoln a month later. 

“Save it Bell, we had a deal.” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d be moving in with the guy.” He grunts out as he loads up another box of hers from her current condo in Philadelphia. Lincoln is of course there as well and while the car ride down was tense it wasn’t unpleasant. It took him over a year of dating Echo before he even broached the topic of her moving in with him and even then, she insisted that they take some more time. He could admit he saw something wrong there, but his life is good as it is and he’s not too concerned. 

He met Echo at a competition in New York, it was his last big one before he decided to step down from the competition level. Not that it wasn’t fun, because it was and not that he wasn’t good at it, because he was. It just started to get overwhelming and pushy and it wasn’t fun anymore. Not that the money wasn’t great, but there was more to life than just making money. Which for Bellamy Blake was a huge thing to admit, growing up with so little and struggling financially he always imagined his future being frugal and based around necessity. He was happy and really that’s all that mattered. 

And Echo? Echo made him happier! She was funny and attentive and she always kept him on his toes. Whenever he started feeling down she was there to cheer him up and show him how important he actually was as a person. She loved him, not just because she had to like his sister had to or because she’d known him forever like some of his friends, but because she got to know him on her own. She was never one to pry either, she accepted that there were some things he couldn’t put into words (like the need to have Clarke’s photo on his dresser) and she offered him understanding and time. And the sex was amazing! He had spent plenty of nights in his younger years with some remarkable women -including his high school girlfriend Gina, but Echo was a whole new level. She introduced him to a sexual lifestyle that he never thought he’d fit into. 

Things weren’t perfect though, because Echo and Octavia continued to butt heads. Echo was a snob. Point blank; there was no way around that general fact. She lived a cushiony lifestyle in California and then got into the UFC because of who she knew and while she earned her title and earned her status, she didn’t come off the streets like most of the other fighters. It was harder for a fanbase to relate to her on a personal level and she made the PR’s job near impossible. On occasion Echo would make a comment that clearly upset some of Bellamy’s friends, but they just didn’t know her. And after three years with her, they still didn’t, not really. She had finally agreed to move in after two years of dating and Bellamy was hoping to take the next step in another year or two. 

And then about halfway through their third year together he came home to quite the scene. On his couch with his shirt off and hovering over his very naked girlfriend was Roan. And when Echo noticed she scrambled as best she could, Bellamy was already upstairs and pacing in his room. At first she was extremely guilty and sorry and her tears would have worked but they just weren’t sincere and he couldn’t figure out how he never saw that before. Then she played dumb. She told him she hadn’t known how serious they were. She told him they’d never talked about being exclusive and it set him off on a rampage, because how could they not be exclusive when they live together? The final straw was her anger, because she didn’t have a right to be angry, but she tried to validate it. 

“You’re such a hypocrite Blake.” 

“Oh I’m sorry, did you walk in on me and my ex naked on the sofa?” 

“Well if it were Clarke I’m sure you would.” She almost regrets saying it, because he looks like she struck him, but before she can backpedal and try and save face he’s already on his defense. 

“How dare you? Clarke is literally just some girl I grew up with, I don’t even talk to her anymore! And yeah so I’ve mentioned her in passing before, but only when we were talking about our childhoods Echo. And even if there was something there when we were kids it doesn’t excuse what you were just doing as an adult.” 

“And the girl in the pictures? Who’s she Bellamy? If we’re going to clear the air we may as well fucking clear it!” She’s waving her arms around like a lunatic, but she just can’t stop. “I am so tired of being compared to these ghosts of your past! You need to move the fuck on Bellamy and you had your chance to do so with me and you didn’t!” 

“Oh so you decided instead of talking to me about it, you’d just slide under Roan and it would fix the problem.” 

“Well at least he made me feel wanted!” 

And he can’t keep his composure anymore; “I asked you to move in with me! Twice! I let you take over my home before you even moved in! I introduced you to my friends, my family and you became part of that! What more did you want? Did you want a proposal, because I was working on that. I came home from my best friend's wedding weekend, which, by the way you were invited to and said weddings just weren’t your thing and you’re fucking Roan! So how long has that been going on Echo? Is that why you didn’t want to move originally? Because it was easier to sneak around and lie when you had your own place?” 

“Please Bell,” and her tears are real this time and he wants to hold her and make it better, but he can’t, he just can’t and that breaks his heart, “it was so stupid and it’s never happened before. I don’t know, he just wanted to talk and one thing led to another and it was just a moment. I love _you_.” 

“I love you too Echo,” and she looks so hopeful that he doesn’t want to finish his sentence, but he has to, “but I can’t trust you and I can’t be with someone like that. I’ll see if Murphy can put me up for the weekend and you can get your stuff out, if you need more time just let me know.” 

In the months that follow Octavia is unbearable around Echo and it almost makes Bellamy feel a tad guilty. He expected Echo to up and leave town so when she had let him know her stuff was out he thought that was it, she was gone. Then she turned up to the bar the next Friday as if nothing had happened, plopped herself down on a barstool and tried to talk to him. She told him about her enrolling into school, that she wants to teach physical education or maybe become a nutritionist. And he acknowledges it with a brisk nod and small congratulations. Then one night she’s asking why he didn’t tell the rest of _his_ friends about what she did and why they broke up. As he’s cleaning a glass he doesn’t even meet her eye when he answers her. “Because they’re your friends too and if you’re going to stick around then you deserve to have their respect.” 

“I’m shocked your sister hasn’t said anything to them.” 

He sends her a glare; “Goes to show how important trust is, doesn’t it? Do you need a refill or are you done here?” 

It’s probably about a week later when Bellamy finds out about Abby Griffin and her drug addiction. And he’s floored and maybe even a little sad. She wasn’t the warmest of mothers to her daughter, but she always did what she thought was best. Not to mention she was a doctor! And he can’t imagine how difficult it must be for Murphy to hear his adoptive brother stress out over this and even with Murphy offering to come down and help him out Marcus is adamant that this is his mess to handle. It’s the same night that Clarke calls and it leaves Bellamy shook. Octavia doesn’t even bother listening in, just storms away and maybe that’s for the better, because Clarke is talking about running into enemies and getting shot at. And somewhere in his mind he always knew that was the risk she signed up for, but to hear it confirmed? After years of just imagining her in a hospital patting a patient's head with a damp rag it’s hard to get the images of her in a desert covered in blood out of his head. 

He knows the moment she’s in Arkadia, for good apparently. And his heart breaks a little with the knowledge that she’ll be coming home to her mothers’ mess. Murphy stops offering updates on his family after a while and Bellamy is hopeful that things worked out for the better, Abby got clean and fixed her relationship up with Clarke for good. The first time he sees Clarke, even though it’s through a crowd and at a distance, he can just tell that his hopefulness was wasted. And things are so rocky between them, from the moment she walks into that bar for the very first time to the night she sits down to accept a meal from him. It’s a thick beef stew, because it’s getting cold out and everyone loves a good bit of stew. Plus it’s Lincoln’s family recipe and they have some of the best recipes. 

The night in total is enjoyable. He works while she eats and teases him and he’s got this easy feeling in his chest. Like it’s lighter than it has been, like he can breathe easier and he doesn’t even notice when Echo sits down. He doesn’t notice how deep in conversation Clarke and Echo are until he’s turning to ask Clarke if she’d like seconds -only to get agitated that her bowl is only half empty, and notices the women facing each other. At first he’s worried, Echo is jealous and territorial even though they aren’t together, but Clarke doesn’t appear bothered in the least bit. In fact she’s smiling and laughing and when Octavia comes down after putting her eleven month old baby to sleep she’s encouraged to join them. 

Octavia’s pregnancy was a surprise, an overall very happy and adorable one, but a surprise. Bellamy had done his best to not freak out and he did an alright job until Octavia and Lincoln made the decision to not get married right away. They wanted to enjoy life as an engaged couple and enjoy the time as new parents. Bellamy did not respond well to that, but the second they placed his nephew in his arms his opinion changed drastically. Little Johnathon was the perfect combination of Octavia and Lincoln. He looked peaceful and calm like his father, but had the lungs of his mother. It was hard to imagine him growing up at all or how quickly things in Bellamy’s life had changed within the year. 

* * *

Three weeks until competition and Bellamy has taken it upon himself to walk Clarke to lunch everyday that they’re at the gym. They don’t hold hands when they walk, but Bellamy always makes sure she’s on the inside of the sidewalk and that his hand stays on her lower back for as long as possible. They usually go to the same cafe each day, because Clarke loves their chicken salad and it’s the only meal she’ll eat entirely. He never lets her pay and he usually handles ordering up at the counter too. The first time Clarke insists that she can pay her half, but she can tell two minutes in that he’s sincerely agitated and offended that she won’t let him handle it. By the end of the week she just rolls her eyes as they enter the cafe. 

She’s also implemented weekly dinner with Echo, Raven, Harper, Octavia and Emori. They’d get to Grounders early on Friday evening and enjoy a night of good food, decent drinks and typical girl talk. This Friday she has promised Octavia she will finally hold Johnathon, despite the fact she’s terrified. Octavia reassures her that everything will be fine, he’s not a newborn and she’s been around him enough in the last couple of months that he’s used to her. And that’s how Bellamy finds Clarke with Johnathon in her arms while he’s delivering their food to the table. He would be lying if he said that the image of Clarke holding his nephew wasn’t hot. He would bet that she knew if her playful smirk was anything to go by. 

That Saturday Clarke and Murphy spent the day at the art gallery on Main Street. There was a particular piece in the front window that had caught Clarke’s attention every time she walked by and she wanted to not only place a bid or make the purchase, but meet the artist. Unfortunately the artist was not a local, but the gallery owner showed her some local works as well. It was Murphy who brought up Clarke’s artwork and even though she attempted to downplay her talents the gallery owner insisted that she bring something by. It was also in the gallery that she noticed the studio attached to the main floor. “You have studio space too?” 

“Well we used to hold community art classes, but our instructor has recently moved and we just haven’t found a replacement.” 

And Clarke edged closer to the room, “Would you say the position is still open?” 

“It would be wonderful to get the program back up and running but I suppose we’d have to find the right person.” And then the middle aged woman looks at Clarke as she paces the studio space. “Are you interested?” 

Murphy answers for her, “She’d be great! Wait until you see some of her sketches, they’re detailed and so life-like.” 

“Thank you Murphy, because I couldn’t answer for myself.” Clarke turns back to the gallery owner and fidgets with some anxious energy, but it’s a good anxious. “I have a degree in education and I do have a portfolio put together if you’d like to take a look. Of course I understand if you’d rather someone with more specific experience.” 

“How about you bring your work in one day next week when my husband is in and we can go from there? Let me get you his business card with his hours.” 

And as she walks away Clarke turns to John and he’s looking mighty proud with his arms crossed over his chest and his smirk in place. “You know, if you get this job you’re going to have to permanently move here.” 

Clarke just laughs, it feels right to think about a future in Wickford. There’s a part of her that feels guilty. She’s leaving her mother behind, throwing her difficult time away for the sake of her own sanity. She’s excited about this possibility though, to do something other than command death. To be a creator and to find an outlet for herself. And after they depart, which her purchase scheduled for delivery on Tuesday she’s leaving the gallery with a sense of purpose. Plus, she can’t wait to tell Bellamy. 

* * *

Two weeks until competition and Clarke seems off. She had been doing so well and then it was like out of nowhere she just put up this wall. It didn’t happen until she came back from her appointment with Luna on Thursday, she just seemed quiet and reserved. Bellamy tried to get her to talk about it, but she just insisted that it was fine she just needed the day. And he didn’t believe her, but he let her have it. When she wasn’t better Friday morning he insisted that she just take the day. He tucked her back into bed and checked on her around lunch time with a chicken salad sandwich from the cafe. She was still in bed and when he offered her lunch she just shook her head. 

“You have to eat Princess.” 

“Not today Bell, I promise I’ll pick at it later, but I’m tired.” 

In the end he let her pull him into her bed. He stayed over the blankets and kept his arms around her as best as possible. He had thought she fell back asleep, but every once in a while she’d let out a frustrated sigh. “How long have you been this low Clarke?” He feels her shrug beneath him. “Are you going to talk to me?” 

He’s patient with her, but eventually he has to roll out of her bed to get ready for his shift. She’s remained silent, catatonic almost and it unnerves him. He presses a kiss to the top of her head and tells her he’ll put the sandwich in the fridge for her. He tells her she’ll be expected at the bar for dinner, but she just stares at the wall in front of her and he wonders if she even heard him. He worries his whole shift, because the girls are all there (even Raven) and she’s not and it bothers him. His misery must be evident because Raven is at the bar instead of with the girls and she has been there for a while and he’s choosing to ignore her. The one thing about Raven Reyes is that she doesn’t settle for being ignored and so he’s not even shocked when she just starts talking. 

She talks about how she never really had a family, she lived with her grandmother after her parents were killed in an accident. She was lucky because she was able to avoid the system, but sometimes she wonders if that would have been a little better. She talks about her life growing up and her best friend Finn Collins. He was the most important person to her on the planet. He was her family. Eventually he became the man she loved and it was like floating on cloud nine. Her happiness was only disrupted because of the real world, because it wasn’t enough that they were happy and together. Only as the stress of adulthood got more and more intense Finn was getting further and further away. She had made the decision to enlist after talking with a customer at the garage she worked full-time for. Finn was so proud of her and supported her all throughout basic training and had the brightest sign visible during graduation, but he hadn’t expected the degree of changes his life would have to take. He didn’t like the idea of moving somewhere new. He didn’t like the idea of her being gone for days at a time, where he couldn’t watch out for her and at first Raven felt loved and cherished. 

Two years into her four year contract she was recruited to test for the special warfare division. She was a strong contender to become a pilot on her own and her senior officers thought she could be a valuable asset to the SPW mission. Finn didn’t like it. The day before she was to be sent back to Fort Lackland he admitted to cheating on her continuously throughout her time in the Air Force. That she had uprooted his life and left him miserable and so he found love and support somewhere else. 

She was alone after that. 

Until she met Clarke during her first deployment. Clarke who had taken none of her cocky bullshit and put her in her place without so much as batting an eye. They were a dynamic pair after that and it felt natural to work together like they did! And out of it Raven got Clarke, a best friend, a sister, someone who chose her over and over again. Even when Clarke was starting to fly off the handle, even when she was drinking heavily and always angry or sleeping all day everyday and sad. She always chose Raven and Raven would choose her. It seemed like the end of the story when Raven got silent and stared into her glass. Or maybe she was waiting for a response from Bellamy, but he wasn’t inclined to offer one just yet. Good thing, because she would have just cut him off anyway. 

“You know today makes four years since my injury.” 

“What are you saying Reyes?” 

“I’m saying that Clarke still carries the same amount of guilt she had four years ago that she does _today_.” He must look like he doesn’t get it because she’s groaning and letting her head fall to the bar dramatically before she whips it back up to glare at him. “Clarke needs you! She may not even realize she does, but it’s true and you need to go to her right now.” 

Bellamy grunted and began clearing off the empty glasses from the previous patrons that had occupied themselves across from Raven. “What do you suggest I do Raven? Just show up and force her to talk to me? Tried that and it didn’t work, but if you have a suggestion I’m all ears.” 

“Go to her, be there for her…” she looks so disappointed in him that it almost hurts, “you still haven’t read the letters yet. You have no idea. Oh my God and I thought you couldn’t get any dumber!” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I’m just, I don’t know.” He dodged her question easily enough, but she’s looking at him with that smirk that translates to ‘ _you know I’m right, now fess up_ ’ and Bellamy is tempted to fling the dirty dish rag on his shoulder at her. “Even if I had intended to go see Clarke tonight, I can’t just leave during my shift.” 

“Well if that’s all that’s stopping you! Lucky for you I know the owners.” She saunters off with a wink and grabs Octavia to pull her aside from their normal group. Of course the more observant Blake had noticed something was wrong when Clarke hadn’t responded to her text earlier in the day. So she’s anticipating a conversation with Raven, but not the one that actually transpires. 

“Bellamy needs to leave.” 

“Uh, okay, can I ask why?” As Octavia is already waving Lincoln down so he can be involved in the conversation. Not that it makes a difference, the decision has been made. 

“I told you guys all I could about today and what it means for Clarke and I, but I think the only person that can really get through to her is your brother. She needs him, she just doesn’t know how to ask and he needs her too. So he should leave.” 

And Lincoln doesn’t argue, there’s a split second where Octavia thinks he’s going to, but then his features soften and he just sighs heavily and goes to dismiss his employee (best friend). Bellamy tries to act indifferent to the situation, but he still scurries out of the bar as fast as possible. “I really hope they figure their shit out soon, this is exhausting.” 

Octavia snorts and sips at her drink, “You’re telling me.” 

* * *

Bellamy Blake does not panic easily. He’s the friend that is contacted for crises and he’s the friend that is relied on to keep a level head and rationality. So the moment he realizes that Clarke is not at her apartment, the door unlocked, her car missing not missing and her bed not made he is absolutely shaken with a surge of panic. The only thing miniscule detail that relieves that panic is that her phone is not plugged in and on top of her bedside table like normal. He takes a couple deep breaths and then texts her, he isn’t expecting an answer but when his phone dings and lights up with her response he’s immediately filled with relief that he almost misses the bottom three stairs leaving her apartment. 

She’s near his place, but closer to the water. She wanted to clear her head and she hadn’t been to the beach once since moving to Wickford so she figured it was about time she took a walk. She didn’t realize how far away Bellamy’s place -the beach really, was from her little corner apartment off of Main Street. So when she saw his truck pull up she was immediately relieved that she wouldn’t have to walk home. That relief disappeared as soon as she saw his face, his eyes were hard and his knuckles white around the steering wheel. She buckles in, literally and figuratively because she’s positive she’s about to receive the lecture of her life. 

Bellamy practiced what he wanted to say the entire drive to the beach entrance. He wanted to tell her how irresponsible she was. He wanted to tell her that she was absolutely nuts. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have the right to just disappear. He wanted to say all of these things and lecture her on the dangers of just wandering late in the evening, leaving her car behind and walking the mileage to the water was ridiculous! Instead what flies out of his mouth is; “How could you be such an insolent brat?” 

And her eyes flash. Her gorgeous blue eyes that could captivate a sea full of people hold so much guilt and anger and _desire_ that Bellamy has to quell the thoughts in his head before they get any further. There’s no way she’s turned on by that. Not possible! Especially when she’s clearly in a poor emotional state of mind, but if she bats those baby blues at him one more time he’ll definitely lose control. 

“What are you going to do about it?” 

Bellamy spares a look over at Clarke and she looks defiant and beautiful. She has one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised and her arms are crossed against her breasts, making them more prominent and Bellamy has to bite back his comment, but he can feel the physical effect of her actions. Clarke notices his subtle signs that he’s equally as challenged with this weird round of foreplay as she is. It excites her and she wants to keep pushing his buttons, wants him to finally snap out of his control. She wants to test the waters and make a move, but he looks ready to spring. She notices pretty quickly that he’s not taking her back to her place, they’re in his neighborhood and soon enough in front of his townhouse and he’s out of his truck like she’s burnt him. 

Bellamy is muttering to himself as he leads Clarke into his house. The sofa is now bare after he threw away the pillows Echo insisted he put there, but his walls have some more life to them with small clusters of photos. His carpet feels soft against Clarke’s bare feet, she can’t help but wiggle her toes in appreciation. Both of their family homes were for the most part hardwood. He’s in his kitchen pouring himself a drink and she has a bout of courage that forces her to the entryway of the kitchen. His arms are pushing him back and away from the granite countertop and she imagines those same arms wrapped around her body, firm and hot and protective. 

“So what? Are you just going to tease me and then leave me hanging, or am I misreading what this is?” 

He looks at her with a glare. “Don’t start something you can’t finish Clarke.” 

“I haven’t started anything, Bell,” and then she pulls her shirt up and over her head, “...yet. So are you going to make a move?” 

And his eyes rake over her body, drinking her in like a man in a desert after he’s found a drink. She feels a thrill and a flush runs the length of her body from her chest to the tip of her forehead. She’s by no means perfect, but she’s fit and she knows she’s attractive. Before she can blink again he’s got her against the wall and his mouth is on fire against her lips. His hands venture from the top of her leggings to just below her breast covered with a flimsy cheap cotton bra. She’s got her hands thrown over his shoulders and he is teasing her breasts lightly and she mews because she wants more. She needs more. And then his mouth is leaving hers and is attached to the rapid pulse against her neck and he’s sucking and bruising the sensitive skin there just like she’s imagined him doing so. 

“Bellamy, more.” She bucks against his body and if possible his eyes are darker, lethal almost. “Please.” 

“Patience Princess.” He pants against her collarbone as he teases the skin below her bra strap and she squirms. “What do you want Clarke? What do you need?” 

“You. I want you. This.” 

He drags his eyes up her neck to her flushed face and sees the desperation in the pools of cool cerulean in her normally bright and clear eyes. He cups her warm cheek and reels from her instinctive move to press closer to him, desperate to feel skin on skin. “You gonna’ let me take care of you?” he asks as he trails a finger from the underside of her jaw to the valley between her beautiful breasts. She whimpers, but he’s looking for an answer. “Answer me Princess.” 

She can feel herself being walked backwards into his living room. She can’t take her eyes away from him, not even to look down at her feet to see where she’s going. Inevitably she does trip, but he has his arms around her and is securing her petite frame against his strapping body. She feels his hands make their way just below the waistband of her leggings and her arms are back around his neck and she’s trying to pull him towards her. He won’t give it to her, won’t kiss her, won’t touch more than in a light teasing way and she whimpers again and tries to buck against him, she wants him to react! She wants him to do something and when she’s finally frustrated enough with his teasing she snaps. “Yes! Yes Bellamy, please. I want you to take care of me. Please.” 

“Alright baby,” he slides his hands up her back and unclasped her bra with ease and then nuges her to the arm of the sofa, he’s still a solid foot taller than her but this vantage point gives him sight to everything he wants to see, “I’m going to take care of you. I’m going to make you feel so good Princess, but you have to be a good girl. Can you do that?” His hands press against her breasts, they cup and they tease and he lets his fingers play with her already hard nipples

She wants to test him so she nods and while she’s rewarded with a sharp tweak against her left nipple she knows she won’t get anything else unless she starts behaving. “Yes, I can be good.” 

“Good girl.” Then he’s kissing her with his hands in her hair and her hands around his wrists, like all those years ago. The heat between them is unreal and Clarke wonders if she’s ever felt this hot before. He’s between her now bare legs and kissing her like she’s precious and it almost breaks her, but then he’s dragging her with him to the actual and laying her down so her right foot is flat against the floor and her left is bent up against the backrest of the sofa. “God, you’re gorgeous.” 

“Yeah?” 

Bellamy nods with a hungry look. “Babe, the sight of you bare like this? Makes me hot, makes me ache with the need to touch you. You want me to touch you?” 

Clarke lets him know with an exaggerated hiss of permission, but she wasn’t prepared for him. While he peppered the top of her breasts with fluttering kisses his fingers traced and teased just outside of her heat, just away from where she craved to be touched. Finally once he’s taking to lapping at her breasts like a starving infant his fingers reach her center and she melts. He starts off by just applying pressure to her bundle of nerves just above her entrance. He smirks at the frustrated gasps and the way her hips thrust against his hand. He times it perfectly, while she’s in the midst of thrusting up towards him he’s sliding a finger into her and her face is priceless. Clarke can’t hide any of her reactions from him and Bellamy is thriving because of it. 

He takes her time with his fingers. Making sure they’re all properly lubricated by her own wetness before sliding them in, he starts with one and works his up to three. The feel of her stretch around his fingers is unbelievable, he’s weak in the knees and he knows she’s close as he curls up into her. Just as Clarke is on the brink of orgasm he pulls his hands free and she whines, her hand not curled in his hand naturally makes its way to relieve herself, but Bellamy can’t have that. Next thing she knows is she’s desperate to come and he has both of her hands secure in his one. 

“Now, I know you weren’t trying to make yourself come, hm?” Bellamy drags his body down, the stretch in his shoulders is tight, but worth it. He kisses up her inner thigh and then blows lightly against her. “Were you trying to make yourself come Princess? Even after I said I’d take care of you?” 

Clarke protests, “No.” 

“That is not what it looked like to me.” Then his tongue is in her and his mouth is against her. It’s sloppy and the day old scruff burns just enough against her skin. She wants to run her fingers through his hair, but his grip is like a vice. He’s working up to the edge again. This time a little slower, a little softer, but she can’t trust that the moment she’s there that he won’t pull away. Rather, she can’t trust her own response if that happens. Her concerns are swept away when he pulls back enough for his free hand to resume their ministrations. “That’s it baby, I bet my hands feel better than yours, don’t they Clarke?” 

She nods vigorously and gasps at the sensation that’s tearing its way through her body. Blessedly Bellamy lets her reach her release and he talks her down from the after shock of her orgasm. Her muscles are twitching below his fingers as he skims them up her body and he releases her hands. Within seconds Clarke is wrapped around him aggressively. He’s pretty sure she’s mumbling about him, but he can’t tell because she won’t let her mouth leave the vicinity of his, not that he’s complaining. He lets her hands push his shirt up and he pulls it the rest of the for her, because Bellamy is content to have his lower body pressed against hers in any capacity so he doesn’t want her to move. 

Clarke reaches for his belt around his waist and flicks his jeans open and loose in one try. She’s released him in one fluid motion. Bellamy has her hands in his before she can even feel him and she’s disgruntled until she realizes he’s whispering against her ear; “Always worrying about others, aren’t you babe? Is this what you want? My cock?” 

“Yes, please.” 

He stands just long enough to shove his pants and boxers down and away. Their position is not ideal for his traditional approach to sex. He wants to be between her legs, feel them squeeze him while he fucks her, but more than that he just wants to _fuck_ her. His instincts take over from that moment, he’s rough and inhibited and demanding. Clarke is roughly pulled from the couch and is face down against his rug with her hands behind her back, in his grip once more. He knocks her legs out lower and the weight of their bodies weighs down on her shoulders. Bellamy enters her vagina in one swift movement and then pauses with a heavy and hot groan. His tempo is steady. It’s slow and gritty and Clarke is left to gasp each time he re-enters her because it’s like he can get deeper with each thrust. 

“Fuck,” he grunts out as he picks up his pace, “fuck baby, feels so good. You feel so good Clarke.” 

“Oh God.” Clarke pants out as he starts to thrust harder. She’s trying to match a rhythm with him, but it’s so hard when her arms are immobilized. “Oh _God_.” 

“Gonna fuck you baby, gonna fuck you so good.” 

The force of their bodies has her face brushing against the carpet in a way that stings and scratches. Clarke thinks it adds to the moment, to the pleasure and the words and sounds coming out of Bellamy’s mouth take some of the sting away. Clarke reaches another impressive orgasm a few moments later and quivers as Bellamy continues to thrust into her, but he follows a mere moment after. He releases her hands and pulls out so he can come onto her back, but he’s allowed his full weight to rest into her. Her legs are kicked out and he’s laying on top of her panting with his semen smeared between the two of them. Clarke is trembling and whimpering, just enough of a sound to make Bellamy react. He brushes her hair away from her neck and nips at the skin that’s underneath her unruly tresses. “You did so good for me baby, so good.” 

Bellamy moves off of her -regrets immediately when she blindly reaches out for him in a panic with her dazed eyes. He consoles her, reassures her that he’s not going anyway and rolls her towards him so he can manage a proper grip on her. Her head rests against his shoulder, her arms limp against her body. Clarke can feel herself moving up the flight of stairs towards his bedroom and snuggles in deeper. “Are you going to carry me the whole flight of stairs?” 

Bellamy smirks at how rough her voice is and presses a gentle kiss against her hairline. “Only for you Princess.” 

Clarke is startled by the bright lights of his bathroom but in a short moment she’s adjusted to the dimmer setting he put them on. Bellamy has placed her on his countertop and he’s wandering around the bathroom looking for items unknown to her. He comes back and she can see he has a bottle of lavender bubble bath in his hands and he’s looking at her with the same childlike innocence that he’s always sent her way. Bellamy doesn’t have to ask, Clarke just nods with more enthusiasm she wanted and then he’s filling the tub. The scent is heavenly as the steam from the heat of the water meets the cooler air around them. To be honest, Clarke hadn’t anticipated Bellamy joining her in the bath, but the moment her back meets his chest while she rests in between his legs with his arms encircling her she realizes she wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Neither of them talk, Clarke is content to turn her head so that her cheek rests on the skin of his chest. The only sound between them is the sound of water moving as Bellamy takes a rag and gently caresses her skin with it. It’s so peaceful and romantic that it makes Clarke’s stomach flutter. For a moment she wonders if he feels the same, but she can’t bring herself to worry about it. If she allows intrusive thoughts to take over she’ll ruin the moment. So she lays and as she starts to come back into the moment she finds her fingers tracing meaningless patterns against his chest. Her free hand is enclosed in one of his and he’s humming softly. The sound is so soft and the rumble within his sternum is comforting. There are no words being exchanged, but this is a stronger connection than words could ever hope to provide. Clarke gets lost in the safety and unfortunately with that comes the thoughts she had tried to outrun all day. The memories that hurt to think about. Faces are flashing before her eyes and she doesn’t realize she’s squeezed them shut and has started gripping the hand in hers like a lifeline. 

Bellamy realizes the moment that Clarke is no longer there with him, despite her body against his. It hurts to see her tense up and squeeze her eyes shut in a way that makes _his_ head hurt from just looking at her. He admits that he feels very much out of his element. He has absolutely no idea on how to proceed, to get her back to him. In his light panic he has to remind himself to remain calm and reassuring, so he focuses on his breathing and soon her distressed gasps are matching his. So it’s a step in the right direction. Bellamy keeps humming and eventually brings his free hand up to brush her hair back from her forehead. He focuses on the little patch of rug burn above her eyebrow and soothes the skin surrounding it with his thumb. They stay like that for an unknown amount of time, but the hot soaking water has gathered a chilly bite to it and he knows they’ll have to move soon. 

The moment Clarke comes back to him, with tears flowing freely his arms encircle her tighter, like he could just hug the problem away. He presses another lingering kiss to the skin against her forehead and tells himself to grab headache medicine before they go to bed, there’s no way she doesn’t have one. “Where’d you go baby?” 

“My mother was right.” Clarke starts to trace those meaningless patterns against his skin again. “I shouldn’t have enlisted.” 

“Why is that Clarke? I thought you loved it, most of it anyway.” 

She shrugs further into his arms. “Do you know why I really started seeing Luna?” She seems to need a response before continuing so he offers her one, he’s always figured that Murphy made her or she realized she really needed it. “She’s missing both of her legs, from a rogue IED that her humvee hit. She lost three friends and comrades that day, and her legs. She was in Iraq right after September 11th. If she could tell me it was going to be alright, I figured I’d believe her.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“I’m pathetic Bell…” and she sounds so sad and little, “I was the lucky one that day and somehow I’m the only one that can’t get over it. I walked away with some bullet grazes and bruises, Raven was flown away with no feeling in her leg and Scotty was _gone_. There was nothing I could do. They were my crew, my team and we’d been through everything together. Every patient I lost was with them and then they were my patients and it was like I couldn’t do anything. By time I made it back to the east coast Raven was already beating the odds at walking again and I was jumping at shadows. I can’t even function without little reminders for everything; charts to tell me when to eat and how much I should have of certain foods and actual times because if I don’t have it mapped out I just won’t, reward systems so I take my medication everyday, it’s like I’m a child! Why am I struggling so badly when I got to walk away?” 

“Princess, just because your wounds weren’t physical doesn’t mean they aren’t here.” She huffs but he wants her to know how serious he is. He lifts their hands and links their fingers and then curls further into her. “You’re healing Clarke, that takes time, but that doesn’t mean it was all a mistake. You did a good thing by enlisting Clarke. You took control of your own life, you pushed yourself and you accomplished so much.” 

“It just doesn’t feel it, you know?” 

“No, I don’t know, but Clarke if you’re serious about this and us, I’d do my absolute best to learn.” 

She manages to turn herself in the now chilled water, her breasts pressed tightly against his chest and her eyes wide and hopeful, and slightly teasing. “You haven’t read the letters yet.” 

His face flushes and for whatever reason the dull brown rug that lays in front of the tub is holding all of his attention. “Bellamy…” Clarke’s teasing voice brings him back to her and she’s now leaning her chin against her folded arms against his chest. He shouldn’t be entranced by how her eyes flutter up at him from under her lashes. He is though. 

“Come one, the water’s getting cold and you’re shivering.” 

“Way to dodge the conversation Blake.” But she lets him slide out from behind her and when he approaches her with an over fluffed towel she stands and accepts it. Clarke lets her fingers brush against his in passing. He wraps a towel around his own waist and once she’s out of the tub he’s dragging hers down her body drying her off. “Bell, you can read them.” 

His eyes meet hers from her feet. “I know, I just,” he heaves out a heavy sigh as he stands to full height and directs her into his bedroom, turns his comforter down and helps her get comfortable. He’s under the covers next to her with his chest against her back and his arms around her securely. Minutes pass in a blissful silence with Clarke sighing wistfully every now and again. “Alright, the thing is I was afraid of what I was going to find in there. That you would have written out all these feelings that I missed out on and I figured at some point in there you’d give up on me and I didn’t want to see that.” 

“Bellamy Blake,” as she rolls around in his arms and snuggles tighter against him, “you have to know that I’ve never given up on you. I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished while we were separated and you’re happy. That’s all I’ve ever really wanted, but if _you’re_ serious about this, about us? You have to read them.” 

* * *

The week going into the charity fight is spent in a flurry of motion. Bellamy spends pretty much all of his spare time at the gym. They’ve received an official roster of fighters participating with their charity of choice declared, Bellamy is proud to see his name with Cancer Centers of America next to it, but something feels missing. The amazing night he and Clarke had that previous Friday had led into a not so dazzling Saturday. She was gone before he even woke up and neither of them had bothered to reach out to each other. On top of that, she was treating him clinically as if he wasn’t Bellamy, the man that was in love with her! 

It drove him mad! 

She didn’t outright defy him though, not in a bratty way. She still accepted their normal lunch dates and never argued when he drove her places. He offered to drive her to her appointment Thursday morning, since everyone was in agreement that training would finish out on Wednesday and thus giving them all a day and a half to finish up whatever is left before they all hit the road. For Clarke it meant keeping her normal appointment with Luna. She hadn’t anticipated walking to her car Thursday morning to see Bellamy waiting for her against his truck. “Well this is a surprise.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Get in the truck Clarke.” 

She did. The ride to Luna’s office was silent, besides the few instructions she had to relay for her new chauffeur. She had put some distance between her and Bellamy over the course of the week. Mostly to process some of the implications that will come from their actions just a few short nights ago. Partially to allow him to come to terms with the changes too. Bellamy was a man that prided himself on his ability to care for his family, but he hadn’t explicitly declared Clarke as part of his family since their reunion. In her heart she knew how much she meant to him and he to her, but to convince her mind of that connection was another battle on its own. She stepped back, as far as her current position allowed, to see what steps Bellamy took. 

She followed his lead. It was easy enough to let him call the shots, miniscule and important, because it felt like she wasn’t fighting to take care of herself anymore. She could clearly tell he hadn’t read the letters yet, if he had there was no way he’d be this cordial or nervous around her. Clarke had made the decision that she wasn’t going to act on her feelings until he read those words. It stung only a little that he didn’t seem to be affected all that much and so she threw herself into the pieces she wanted to show the gallery next week as a distraction. She still hadn’t expected him to insist on driving her to Luna’s. 

Luna must have been equally as shocked, but only for a moment as she shook Bellamy’s hand. Clarke’s session picked up where they left off the week before and of course she inquired on Clarke’s ride for the day. Clarke took advantage of the conversation to express her concerns and questions, should she even be considering a relationship? She was transitioning slowly into life as a permanent Rhode Island resident, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was ready for something like _that_. She hadn’t even talked to her mother or Marcus yet and they were both expecting her to return home within two months! Although Luna spoke calmly and answered all of her concerns. By the end of the session Clarke felt a bit more comfortable with herself, more secure. 

She still refused to do anything until he read her letters. 

* * *

The trek to the tournament in Jersey was uneventful, besides the mini food fight in the backseat and the laughter over old stories. Clarke was squeezed in between Raven and Octavia in the middle section of seats of the big SUV, Lincoln and John were in the front seats. Harper and Maya took up the rear seating with the cooler full of snacks. Bellamy, Jasper and Monty were in the car behind them. When they pulled up to their hotel and unloaded the girls had decided to change and make their way toward the bar in the hotel lobby. 

It definitely wasn’t the normal Friday night scene for the women. They preferred Lincoln’s homemade meals to the standard bar food that was available at the overpriced hotel bar. They also preferred Bellamy as their bartender in comparison to the brunette, who was missing half a shirt and kept flirting with their men every time they made the drink run for the girls. Bellamy and Murphy had needed to meet with some representatives from the UFC -with Harper following diligently to put together some of her final pieces on John Murphy, so for the majority of the evening the three of them were missing. Not that anyone really mind, except for Clarke who admittedly missed Bellamy. She outright defied him when he told her to ride with him and the remaining delinquents that couldn’t fit into the SUV. 

His eyes darkened in the way that Clarke loved as he called her a brat. She would take the heat from her defiance when the time came, but for now there was satisfaction in her gait as she walked away. She would have preferred to ride in the same car as him, maybe convince him to sit in the back seat with her. She could have snuck his sweatshirt over her head if she had gotten cold. Not that her car ride wasn’t fun! It was, incredibly so. Especially since it’s Octavia and Lincoln’s first trip away from the baby -his Aunt Indra was kind enough to watch Johnathon for them. There was an awkward point an hour into the ride when Octavia inquired about Clarke’s relationship with Bellamy. She was only slightly disappointed when Clarke said there was nothing to tell and then she spent fifteen minutes furiously typing into her phone. 

The excitement of the competition was palpable in the hotel. It seemed that everyone participating had chosen to stay at the same place. It was easy to make friends with everyone, they were all there to fundraise for charities of their choice (and to gain the good PR that came with it). Clarke had enjoyed her evening at the bar, but she enjoyed it a lot better when Bellamy finally made his way over to their now cramped table. His arm around her shoulder was nice and heavy and she instinctively leaned closer to his body heat. Naturally, Octavia noticed and indignantly -drunkenly, she demanded to know the truth. 

“You told me nothing was going on!” 

“And nothing is going on.” Clarke sipped at her water with a pleasant smile plastered across her face. It was her sarcastic smile. The same one she used when she was feeling bratty with Bellamy or when Murphy pushed her buttons. 

Octavia pressed forward squinting at the pair in front of her. “I call bullshit.” 

“O,” Bellamy pleaded, but damn if he didn’t tighten his hold on the beautiful blonde woman at his side, “can we maybe discuss this later? Like after the fight? When you aren’t drunk?” 

She gasped and reeled back in offense, “I am not _drunk_ Bellamy! Even if I was, do I not deserve to be? I have raised a baby this year!” 

“Huzzah!” Raven shouted with her pint of beer in the air.

“Yeah, don’t encourage her Reyes.” 

“You are not my boss big Blake.” 

And so the night went. Blessedly, most of their friend group just ignored how cozy Clarke and Bellamy had gotten. By eleven everyone was ready to turn in. Bellamy and the official Blake ringside team had to report to the arena around seven the following morning. There was a thrill in the air as everyone began to disperse from the bar area. Clarke could feel the energy change as they all made their way towards their rooms. She used her keycard to enter her room, the giant bed in the middle looked inviting after the excitement of the day. She wanted to shower before Raven got in and used all the hot water. Clarke had been under the spray of the too hot hotel water for all of two minutes when she heard Raven make her way into the room. Although the other woman remained unnaturally quiet. 

Ever the prankster that Raven Reyes was, Clarke had grown suspicious as the silence continued to stretch through the entirety of her shower. So when she appeared from the bathroom and saw Bellamy stretched out in shorts on the bed Clarke squeaked. Okay, so it took her a second to process Bellamy and she had initially walked into a room with a man on her bed looking all too comfortable with his reading glasses on and book open. Bellamy, however, seemed entirely unphased and even smiled a little at her as she made her way to her clothes laid out. She huffed as she turned her back to him while she quickly changed into the sleep shorts and tee shirt she had packed. Clarke felt his eyes on her the entire time and it sent a shiver of excitement through her. Only when she turned around she looked agitated and not aroused. 

“I’m supposed to be sharing with Raven.” 

“Hmm, not according to my plans.” 

She gestured towards him resting comfortably over the itchy and stiff blankets and sheets. “Clearly, want to fill me in on when this decision was made?” 

“Obviously when we were making the reservations.” Bellamy rolled his eyes and went back to reading. He couldn’t recite the page he was looking at directly if he was asked, the second she walked out with nothing but a towel and then changed in front of him his attention was shot to hell. “Why? Is there a problem?” 

Clarke wouldn’t rise to the bait and instead ripped half of the bedding out from its tucked placement and then made a dramatic effort to get comfortable on the hard mattress. Once she was settled she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Bellamy who had the dopiest look on his face. _It was not cute_ -it was, but she didn’t need to admit it. “No, no problem I am perfectly comfortable.” 

“Excellent, I wouldn't want my Princess to be uncomfortable.” 

“I’m not your princess.” 

He closed his book and looked at her skeptically; “Aren’t you though? I mean it’s been a week of walking around each other, but I meant what I said Clarke!” 

“Well so was I!” she responds indignantly with a huff of frustration as she turns to face away from him. 

Bellamy is not in the mood to deal with that nonsense. So within seconds his book lays on the ground forgotten and he has Clarke on her back with his body holding her down. The stubborn set in her jaw and eyes sends fire through his spine and he gets excited thinking about how he could get those cold looks to fade away. He won’t though, not when she’s clearly and sincerely upset about something. So instead he sits back while straddling her hips and lets his hands travel from her shoulders to her hands. Clarke lets him ease the tension away as he holds her hands lightly and bats his ridiculously brown eyes at her. 

“I’m not falling for that ridiculous puppy pout Bellamy.” 

“Okay, then how about this?” He shrugs easily and then leans forward to kiss her against her forehead and then the bridge of her nose and her cheeks before he settles at the corner of her lips. Which are now turned up, he may add. “See? I knew it.” 

“Bell…” 

He shakes his head and his stubble brushes the underside of her jaw now that he’s practically laying on top of her with his head against the junction of her shoulder and neck. “No, I know you were serious and I was too. I just can’t… you wrote me for six years and I couldn’t even bring myself to even reach out to you once. That eats at me, you know?” 

Her fingers are free from his hands as they settle in closer, but she can’t not touch him. She threads them through his hair easily and snuggles in deeper. “I just can’t verbalize what you want me to. I can’t be what you want me to. Not right now, I don’t even know-” 

“Stop.” His free hand cups her face and turns it towards his so he can claim her lips against his. “I just want _you_ Clarke, that’s it, nothing more or less.” 

“I want you too.” 

Bellamy nuzzles against her again, but only for a second, because then he’s moving so that he can get access to her from under the covers. He turns the lamp on the bedside table off because he slides completely under the covers and wraps Clarke into his arms. She figures she should be used to this, her back against his chest and their legs tangled together. She was considerate enough to brush her damp hair aside so he can just make himself comfortable while he kisses lazily at the side of her throat and just behind her ear. If he sneaks in a nibble or teasing bite every once in a while so what? It’s hot that she doesn’t get upset by his marks and he loves the little sighs she releases as he does it. 

“Go to sleep baby.” He whispers into her ear as they settle down. He’d give just about anything to fuck her right there, but they need rest. They have an early start tomorrow and it’ll be a long day. He wants her fully rested, not to be on alert or anything, but so that she can really appreciate the fun of the competition. Plus, his rounds aren’t going to be easy, especially when he has Roan as an opponent first thing. The event is going to be divided into three fights for each division, six people are representing each weight division and they’ll rotate opponents throughout the day. Betting is being run in a standard set up, except that people will have the opportunity to take their winnings and donate them to the charity that their fighter represented. Since the idea of the event is charity to begin with, Bellamy can’t imagine too many people not donating, but humans are inherently selfish creatures. The winnings for the teams will also be donated to the charity they’re representing. Then at the end of the event participants get paid the base rate they were informed of when they signed for the event. 

Overall it’s a pretty standard and fun competition. It’s still an early start to the day. At six in the morning Bellamy’s phone is going off and both he and Clarke jump awake almost instantly. They snuggle in for just a few more moments and then Clarke is nudging him up so she can escape the cocoon of his arms and blankets to pee. By time she comes back he’s already changed and ready to go so with a quick peck to her lips (and a lingering gentler kiss to her forehead) he tells her where to meet him and Murphy. The day starts with meeting the other participants at the arena for the distribution of official rules. The six teams in each weight division then have the chance to meet and unlike the big televised UFC events, they’re not hurling insults or intimidating remarks towards each other. By nine in the morning Clarke gets in her assessment of Bellamy to the official physicians on site. These would be his baseline numbers for the day, she also turns in all the paperwork and observations she’s been making over the course of the last couple of weeks. 

Bellamy goes in for the extensive physical exam with the physician a little after nine-thirty and by ten he has the all clear to participate. The first round of fights will start at noon, so from the time fighters get the all clear from the physician until they’re called for staging they’re free to mingle around the crowd that’s forming. It’s not the normal group of fans that come in first; initially it’s the kids that some fighters are personally sponsoring. Some in wheelchairs, some with service animals, but almost all of them have huge smiles on their face. Then the general public is allowed in and the typical meet and greets go on. Roan has a huge crowd around him, he’s got a big chance at winning a title with the UFC in the upcoming season, but all Bellamy can see is the cocky man he faced off against years ago. 

Clarke looks professional, calm, cool and collected throughout the morning. He and Murphy introduce her to their other friends and in particular Bellamy is excited to introduce her to Nathan Miller. As it turns out, Millers’ younger cousin Madi has a rare blood disease and Roan had decided to sponsor her for the event. The money donated will go towards the kids medical expenses and anything left over will be put into an account she can use for college. She’s six years old and her excitement is palpable from across the room. And she is of course smitten with Clarke minutes after meeting her. 

Bellamy can see that Miller wants to say something, “Please, don’t…” 

“I wasn’t going to say anything dude.” Miller says with his hands in the air. 

That doesn’t stop Roan, the asshole that he is, from making his comment though. “So that's Clarke? The same Clarke that you pined over for years? The same Clarke that is related to our very own cockroach? _Damn_.” 

Murphy growls; “That’s my sister.” 

“I thought she was your step niece?” 

“That’s fucking stupid and you know it.” Roan just shrugs and walks away whistling while the other three men are left to shake their heads. Exasperation was a common emotion when dealing with Roan. 

“But seriously,” Miller grabs Bellamy by the shoulders and shakes him, “that’s Clarke?” 

“Yes, that’s Clarke.” Bellamy smiles softly watching her crouch down to the child’s level and tells her something amusing. Madi must feel him watching because she waves and Clarke is turning to look at him. 

Eventually Madi drags Clarke back over to the men conversing and tells Miller -in a very excited manner, that her new friend Clarke is her favorite so far! It’s sweet. Bellamy makes the introductions and Clarke and Miller are conversing easily enough while Madi informs Bellamy and Murphy about how Murphy is one of her favorite fighters ever. Murphy seems humbled almost before his ego gets the better of him. Over the next hour or so they meet a few other kids and some representatives from charities being sponsored. They hear the squealing and whistling of their friends as they make their way in. Harper is the last one to join as she was in on some interviews prior. Bellamy knows he’ll have one of those too, but he’s not stressing about it yet. 

First round of participants are called to staging and promptly at noon the first fight is announced and started. Bellamy is impressed, the whole set up of the event is extremely considerate of families being sponsored. They’ve opened up the club member rooms for them, to help with those sensitive to flashing lights and extreme noises. The whole first level of the arena is steadily packed. It’s a large crowd but not all consuming. The first three fights are finished and the event moves on. Between every fight is a small informational commercial about the charities or kids being sponsored by the fighters. Lots of fighters are sponsoring children’s hospitals or research centers. A few have taken on a global level charity, but mostly, everyone’s chosen something that means the most to them. 

Bellamy’s first round is against Roan. It’s rough, because Roan is a great opponent and realistically he has the upper hand of training at a professional level for most of his adult life. It’s clear that Roan wants to win, not just for himself, but for Madi and Bellamy can appreciate that. Their first round is similar to the very first time they’ve ever fought each other, but some direct hits are made. By round two Bellamy has worked up a sweat and he’s taken a hit to the upper eyebrow that caused it to split. Mildly irritated Bellamy responds in kind. In between rounds Clark places a butterfly bandage over the cut and he can see the nervous energy radiating off of her. He does the best he can to reassure her, but his mind isn’t necessarily on her in that moment, rather his opponent. Round three is the hardest round between the two men. They’re fighting hard and putting on a show, but each of them have their own reasons for fighting so intensely. They go for the entire fifteen minutes before the final bell and the winner is announced, only since this isn’t a true competition draws are acceptable. 

Bellamy is only mildly upset that his first match is a draw. And against Roan. However, when the announcer of the event asks what they’d like to do with the split winnings Bellamy responds; “Roan is a great opponent, but it’s not about the winnings today. The little girl that Roan has chosen to sponsor isn’t just someone important to him, but to me and my family as well. We’ll be donating to the fund for Madi.” 

Roan shakes his hand and thanks him and then turns to answer his own question; “Of course I’m disappointed in how the fight turned out, but it’s like Blake said, today is for something different. I’d like to offer the same for the Cancer Research Centers of America, which Bellamy is sponsoring in his mothers honor.” 

They’re the only draw of the entire day. 

Both men are grouches about it. 

The second round of fights kicks off after a thirty minute intermission and is very familiar. Clarke clears Bellamy to go in for fight two and even praises him on his etiquette from his previous fight. He kisses her and when he pulls back Murphy is staring his jaw slack, Harper is beaming and Emori is smacking Murphy in the shoulder. Clarke blinks away the shock and then moves to take her seat, the two other women immediately jumping at the opportunity to demand an explanation and Murphy is still staring at her like she’s personally offended him. She brushes off her friends and spends the first round of the fight with her face in her hands to hide her embarrassment. 

Clarke is able to watch round two and is incredibly impressed with what she sees. Bellamy moves in such grace and agility that it feels natural. She can see why he had been propositioned for so long to expand on his fighting career. She knew him though, knew that he couldn’t just fight for a living, he’d need a reason. Something to inspire him. It’s clear at the start of round three that Bellamy is going to be the winner. He’s taken some decent hits, but he’s managed to exhaust his opponent and had demonstrated his own personal level of skill in mixed martial arts that had the crowd going wild. At the end of the fight Bellamy's hands are raised as victor Clarke jumps from her seat and screams alongside the crowd. She inspects the hit from Roan above his eyebrow and his pupils and basic vitals when they’re in one of their designated staging areas. 

When she’s done she meets his eyes with a sly smirk; “That was hot.” 

“Yeah?” He plays along. “Just wait baby, this was nothing.” 

And he is right. Fight three is definitely the showiest. It’s late in the evening and it’s been a long day for everyone still in attendance. Thousands of dollars had been raised for all different foundations and families, it’s rather heartwarming. In his first round Bellamy and his last opponent spend some time in traditional wrestling positions before Bellamy takes the opportunity to land a hit against an undefended cheek. From there the fight is Bellamy calling the shots. His opponent can’t bounce back against him and Clarke is so turned on she’s frustrated. She’s also really into the fight, jumping alongside Murphy and Emori. She can tell her voice is going to be hoarse the next day but it’s worth it. Bellamy’s footwork is hypnotizing to watch and by the end of the fight he’s clearly amped up and hyped. He’s crowned the winner and has the same announcer from earlier asking him some questions (like he’s done twice now). 

“So Blake, your team has raised over $5,000 for Cancer Research Centers of America. And it appears your fanbase has contributed almost double that throughout the day. How’s that feel?” 

Bellamy is breathless and wipes the sweat away from his face before he answers; “It feels good, to take a skill or talent and be able to use it for something like this. I hope that everyone who has donated today did so knowing that they’re going to be helping people that really need it, you know?” 

“Of course, of course! And now, you’ve got this final round of winnings, do you think you’ll be sending 100% of it to your charity or are you going to join the trend of other fighters in donating to a competitors choice?” 

“Actually, there’s a fighter here who’s sponsoring Hope for the Warriors.” Bellamy smiles so genuinely it’s contagious. “You see, my girl, who I love very much, is a veteran. She served eight years in the U.S. Air Force as a member of their Special Warfare Division as a Pararescuer. Coming back to civilian life has been difficult and the resources she needed weren’t always there, not without some digging. As much as I loved honoring my mother's memory today, I’d like to honor those that have answered a higher calling than most of us.” 

Clarke has her hands over her mouth and tears forming in her eyes as Bellamy continues to speak. “We take so much for granted, our health and our liberties and our freedoms… we don’t appreciate them. I know I didn’t appreciate my mom until it was too late and the same goes for Clarke. I lost out on moments I can never get back and putting money towards something doesn’t fix it, but it can help another family get some more time.” 

There’s a lot of cheering, “Well said Blake, any final thoughts?” 

“None that I can think of, just want to get cleaned off.” 

He’s barely cleared the ring before he finds his arms full of Clarke and her lips against his. They aren’t aware that a camera has found them and that the crowd is cheering for them. Bellamy is gross and sweaty and Clarke has never been more attracted to another human being so resolutely and fully than in that moment. By time she pulls back she’s aware of the commotion she’s caused and her face is bright red. She’s equal parts embarrassed and exhilarated! All she can think to mumble out though is how much she loves him. He just hugs her to him and ushers into their area. 

They can barely keep their hands off of each other. Really, it’s only until they have no choice that they separate. Clarke waits impatiently while Bellamy finishes up the official stuff. He has to shower and then get cleared by the physician and then he has to sit in on some interviews. He’s going to get bombarded with new offers, but he’s prepared to turn them all down. He never entered the competition with the goal of going big, in fact he wanted to use it as an opportunity to close that particular chapter in his life. Harper barely finishes before he’s out of his seat and rushing to find Clarke. 

Their friends have blown up their phones, demanded information and offered their congratulations. Murphy left a rather dark and nasty voicemail to Bellamy’s phone, but otherwise everything seemed good. Clarke had been waiting for Bellamy in their room, she paced the room in excitement and with nervous energy. She couldn’t deny her feelings anymore, not when they were publicly displayed just hours prior. Bellamy walks into their room smiling and takes three big steps before he invades her space and kisses her. There’s so much heat and passion into this kiss that it makes Clarke’s knees weak, but it doesn’t deter him. He simply lowers them to the edge of the bed. 

He only breaks the kiss long enough to remove her shirt and then his and her hands are crawling up his chest to his shoulders, but she’s hesitant. “Did, did you mean that? What you said earlier?” 

He cups her face in both of his hands and forces her to look at him, but his eyes are like molten chocolate as they clash with her ocean blues. “That I love you? Of course I did, how could I not?” 

Clarke lets the most radiating smile escape and a few tears, but he catches them with his thumb. “I meant it too, I love you Bellamy.” 

He kisses her again and pushes her back against the mattress. “I know Princess, I know.” 

They don’t get much sleep that night and the next morning they’re meeting their friends with their hands linked tightly. She will also be riding with him on the way home, in the backseat where she can steal his sweatshirt when she gets too cold. Octavia is the first to comment, it seems like the group has let her take the lead in that respect. “Well, I remember you telling me there was nothing there.” 

“Well there wasn’t when you asked.” 

Octavia crosses her arms over her chest and eyes Clarke suspiciously, while Bellamy groans into his head next to her. “And now?” 

“Oh, now there’s definitely something there, something pretty great actually.” 

“God, you’re such a brat.” Octavia laughs and Bellamy can’t help but chim in himself. 

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” 

Their crowd of friends are all cackling as Octavia proclaims her protest to the innuendo hinted in Bellamy’s snark; “Ew! That’s so gross. Keep it to yourselves.” 

* * *

The time that follows the fight is peaceful. There are some bumps, discussions on how fast Bellamy and Clarke want to move and how serious they’re getting. In the end Clarke moves into his home and soon enough it becomes theirs. She has some paintings on the wall in their living room and her eating schedule and meal plans are on their counter and there are photos that travel the length of their stairwell. A lot of them are ones of them all so young and naive, some have Aurora and some have Jake, there’s a few that have Clarke in uniform with some of her friends and some of Bellamy with his friends from the gym. 

Abby and Marcus have remained together and reside in Pennsylvania now. Abby has been clean for a while and has managed to bridge the gap between her and Clarke. Things were rough at first, but eventually they were okay again. Miller becomes a more frequent weekend visitor to Wickford, now that he’s been with NYPD long enough to earn some real time off that is. His niece is doing well! She’s still sick, in fact she may be for her whole life, but her doctors are convinced that nothing will hold her back. John Murphy and Emori go through with a flashy ceremony and reception during a warm June weekend. Their venue is the campsites fifteen minutes away from Wickford and everyone is encouraged to dress in comfort. Clarke gets a splinter in her hand and fights Bellamy when he tries to remove it, it ends with them naked in a cabin. 

Jonathan turns one and learns how to walk. He’s a storm brewing under Octavia’s paranoia and Lincoln’s easy going nature. Octavia is also pregnant again and while she’s insisted she’s happy regardless and just wants a happy baby everyone knows she really wants a girl. Raven sticks around too! She met a man, Miles Shaw, who argued with her for an hour over the diagnostics of his car. Raven was right, his trans blew and it wasn’t worth replacing. Clarke’s Latina friend likes to deny her feelings for Shaw and wonders why he’s all of a sudden become part of their group. He claims to have grown up in Wickford, but Raven suspects that’s a lie. It’s not, he graduated with Jedd’s son, but Raven Reyes is bull-headed. Echo eventually ends up with Roan and literally nobody except Bellamy saw it coming. Well, until she fessed up on why her and Bellamy broke up. She stays in touch and flies in for major holidays, including their big family camping trip every fourth of July, but everyone can see how happy she is to be back in a scene familiar to her. 

Monty proposes to Harper the following Christmas. Jasper cries, Maya consoles him while he sings the final part of the Lion King’s version of _Can You Feel the Love Tonight_. The part where Timone informs Puumba how lonely life is going to be now that Simba has fallen in love. It’s cute and Jasper ends up as Monty’s best man exactly a year later. Jasper and Maya break up when her father passes away, it’s a rough six months for everyone, but eventually Jasper wins her back and they elope almost immediately. Everyone waits patiently for Clarke and Bellamy to announce their engagement -or elopement. It doesn’t come, not for a long time. 

The day it happens Clarke’s cuddled up on the sofa napping while Bellamy finally ( _finally_ ) reads through the notebooks of letters she’s written him. There are so many emotions working their way through Bellamy as he reads. Pride, because she accomplished so much and never gave up. Admiration, because he knows he could never do what she’s done. Love, because she’s so raw and honest in these little messages, even with the early ones that were so plain (because they couldn’t be used against her). His heart hurts the further he gets. The longer the letter, the more he knows she’s hurt at that moment. He promised himself he would read them before he proposed and he had been reading them without her knowledge to do so. After his own session or two with Luna so he could better understand the significance with these notebooks. 

In the end he’s nudging her awake by whispering her name and she’s not really awake when she responds with a slurred, “Yeah baby?” 

He doesn’t relent and he waits for her to wake up, when she does the first thing she notices is a ring in his hand and then her eyes are bugging out of her head. She’s sputtering and flailing and it’s so cute it almost hurts, but he catches her before she falls off of the sofa and gives herself a bruise on the asscheek that she was favoring. Loving Clarke and fucking Clarke have been their own separate adventures. They’re both equally into exploring their own kinks and sexual realms of pleasure, but in the end Bellamy always takes care of Clarke. Even when she’s being a brat. She’s hugging him and squealing out her positive response to his unasked question and he can’t help but hug her tighter as they both laugh on the sofa. A year later Clarke and Bellamy are saying their vows in front of a room of their closest friends and family. 

Luna Woods remains Clarke’s therapist until after the couple's first child. After that Luna and Clarke meet in less formal settings and catch up over coffee or tea once a month or so. Luna even attends some of Clarke’s classes held at the gallery, where she’s proudly displayed at least ten pieces -Bellamy may or may not have bidded and won three of them. She teaches beginners art classes that are open to the community every other Thursday night. Girls night is still on Friday’s and it’s still at Lincoln’s, but Bellamy no longer bartends for them. In fact, he’s settled nicely into teaching history for their local school district. By the time their kids are in school he’s bumped up to the high school level, “Really it’s for their own good, how uncool is it for your dad to be your history teacher when you’re ten?” 

To which Clarke usually responds with, “Oh but being their father and teacher when they’re in high school is _much_ better.” 

And life is good, for all of them. It’s not perfect, but it’s good. 

If anyone had asked Clarke if she saw how her life would turn it would she change it, she would tell them no. Even through all the hardships and bad times. Her life turned out with no semblance of what was laid before her as a child, but she was happy. And really, wasn’t that the point of life? To be happy? To be loved? To be better? So no, if she was asked, there was nothing she’d change about her life. 

**Author's Note:**

> And that's a wrap!


End file.
